The dog broke my nose yesterday. She hurdled through the seats to lick my face as I was turning my head to back out of a parking space. Her head hit me and "crunch" went my nose, and my bumper as I backed into the pickup behind me. I look like I have been in a bar fight. It has been a long twenty four hours.
It has been a long two weeks. Come Sunday we will have had Mollie for a fortnight. So far she has chewed her way through a new box of humidifier filters, a gallon jug of distilled water, two tennis balls and a bone. We have purchased a child gate, pinch collar, short leash, dog food, dog bowls (which she has tipped over twice thereby finishing flooding the laundry room), fence posts and 100 feet of horse fence. Oh, and a new bumper. She has broken a lamp and scratched the heck out of the buffet and both of us. We have been on countless walks. She is scared spit less of the cats.
As I sit here with my aching head and non-functional nose I am deciding if I want to keep this dog. She may just be too wild. She is nice and there is not a mean bone in her body, but she is young and uncivilized. She was untrained before she went to live at the ranchette and two months of living in a field with thirteen other dogs just made her wilder. She appears to love me to the point of nuttiness.
Therein lies one of the problems. I can't stand it. She gloms onto me and won't go away. If I move so does she. She whines if she is not at my side. I can't get anything done. I have fallen over her twice. She is learning "sit" and "stay" but not fast enough. She is driving me batty. I finally had had enough a couple of days ago and yelled "just leave me alone." I recognized the voice. I used to follow my mother around trying to touch her. She hated it and would push me away saying the same thing. Gad. I also almost hit Mollie on the head with a wooden hanger. She was jumping on me for the umteenth time and none of the stuff I have been told to do was working. I was raging mad as I hollered at her and raised the hanger. She immediately cowered at my feet. I felt no compassion. I just wanted to strangle her. What I did was call her and put her in her crate. Then I went out side where I couldn't hear her whining for me. As I stood out on that freezing step I understood a little more about my mother and I.
Another lesson in intimacy. Another lesson in trust. I have been Mollie. I have not been my mothers. Now I am. After the hanger incident shame and self hatred washed over me and I have been attempting to anchor my self in the bottomless oblivion of food. Getting smacked in the nose yesterday may have knocked some sense into me. Forced me to come up for air (to carry the nasal theme a little further.)
Both of us, Mollie and I, were badly parented. Most of my rough edges have now been loved off by the God Given Ones in my life. I am no longer whining and panting for love. I am filled up. I need to learn to give love as much as Mollie needs to learn to receive love. We are a pair forged in Heaven.
I have located the blender. Still can't find my cookbooks. I must have inadvertently given my winter sweaters away, and I need them. We go wireless on the 20th. I will croak if we have to wait much longer. I NEED TO WRITE. It is no longer a choice. I write or wither up and die.
Hope you all are doing well. I miss you more than you know. Take care.