Words for Wednesday

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Nowhere to Run to

So I'm still running, about three days a week. I'm up to 95 minutes without stopping, which for me translates to between seven and eight miles. And just yesterday, I added sprints to my routine, because apparently I need counseling in this area.

The fact of the matter is that I'm still struggling with the loss of our beloved Boogie as well as my par-for-the-course holiday depression. I'm hoping that doubling down on my cardio at the expense of my weight training will hold the bad feelings at bay so that I might continue to function in ways that aren't really optional at this point in my life.

I still feel like shit, but I'm functional, so I'm going to call this a "win." Except for the part where my quads and calves are in a constant state of achy stiffness, and I'm apparently losing several of my toenails. Whee.

The Ballad of Mad Dogs and Englishman

Speaking of Boogie, we're still attempting to revise our daily activities (and our lives) to a state where we're not always looking for him, making plans for his care, etc. We retrieved his ashes after the cremation, and while we initially thought we'd want to scatter them in the area where he took his daily walkies, when the time came we couldn't bring ourselves to do so. Now they're on the mantle, waiting for their final disposition, which is still undecided.

His blankets and bed went to the Animal Emergency and Specialty Center, who cared for him in his final days, and his crate went to City Bark, the awesome kennel which he considered Doggie Purgatory, but wasn't. Turns out City Bark also does large dog rescue, and they'll use his crate for dogs that need that help. We donated his food and snacks to the local Food Bank, who are always looking for pet food for their clients.

All of these donations made us happy, as we feel we were supporting other families and pets who needed help. A small comfort, but comfort nevertheless.

The Ice of Boston

I'm heading out to Boston this morning on my latest business jaunt. I'm still neck-deep in Next Generation 911 technology and integration issues, which is actually a good thing. Working on technology that allows people "always-on" access to emergency services is satisfying work, as opposed to, I don't know, working on technology that allows people to bitch and cry about how they're having trouble surfing the pr0n. Because really, I'm pretty sure my giving any kind of shit about someone's inability to surf the pr0n would violate some physical law.

I'll be back late Friday, so (once again), you guys are on your own for a few days. Please don't burn the place down.

6 comments:

Random Michelle K said...

(searches for matches)

Anne C. said...

[pulls out bags of glitter and confetti]

Phiala said...

Um. I ran a quarter-mile today, as part of the "tire out the boxer campaign" and embedded in a three-mile dawn walk. It didn't much help; he was a lunkhead for the entire walk, and tried very hard to get run over by a schoolbus. I walk more than eight miles a day lately, but running that distance would probably kill me.

Like you, we gave away a bunch of Grendel's things, including giving his drugs to the vet for redistribution to people who can't afford them. But we knew we were going to get another dog, so we kept things like the crate.

Also like you, we still have Grendel's ashes.

Grendel was so fragile for the last year or two, with bad hips and difficulty with slippery floors that that had become my default dog setting. It's a shock to the system replacing that with a year-old boxer. "Don't let him do that! Oh wait..." But I suppose it's good that we got such a very different dog.

beatrice in Paris said...

(pulls out the bottle of rum)

Janiece said...

We thought about keeping his crate, but Boogie loved it so, we just couldn't bring ourselves to reuse it. We'll just have to get another when we get our next dog.

Random Michelle K said...

Oooh! Rum!

(jumps on the sofa)