Lily

Five years ago, after having a miscarriage I made the rather hasty decision to get a puppy. I can still remember that it took about 2 weeks to finally come home with one - the first weekend foray to PetCo and their adoption fair almost resulted in me bringing home a 6 month old deaf St. Bernard, but in a rare moment of sanity I resisted (he was wicked cute). It was during the second weekend trip that I found Lily, or rather that Robert found Lily. I was looking at her sister a dusty brown bundle who was almost the color of the Arizona desert in fall and winter, when Robert tapped me on the shoulder and in his arms was a jet black sausage. There is no other word to describe Lily at that age - she was a sausage.

The first night we brought her home she got out of her puppy crate and I found her the next morning curled up on a pile of books in the living room. This set the pattern for several more nights until she finally got used to the crate. From the start Lily was a challenge. We had been spoiled with Raleigh, he potty trained really fast, he never chewed, but Lily - oh Lily. Lily chewed her way through a French/English dictionary, all of my shoes, and several novels, and she adopted the spare room of our house on Fairoaks as her own indoor bathroom. She was hard work. But she was also so rewarding, if you accidently stepped on her she would yelp then sit with her paw in the air acting as if you had caused her indescribable pain - more than one friend fell for this trick. She never got used to mirrors, and would bark at her own reflection, and get quite indignant about the "other dog" in the room. She was a hussy who would happily roll over for extended tummy rubs. She never learned the command "roll over" but she knew "roly poly." She walked to heel immediately without prompting, she aced puppy classes, and she was in many ways more obedient than Raleigh. Friends who were scared of dogs warmed to and even loved Lily, she was ridiculously easy to love. She was always a "fraidy cat", she was always skittish, and no amount of training, no amount of love, no amount of security did anything to abate her fears and anxiety.



When we moved to Boston she spent every day standing on the front seat of the car, refusing to sit down much less lay down until it got dark. At rest areas she would hide behind my legs to bark at people - and in every hotel she would curl up at the foot of the bed, reveling in the treat of not sleeping in her crate.



In Boston the more tricky parts of having a dog with so many fears became more apparent. Lily was scared of trash bags, of plastic grocery bags, even pillow cases - anything you could shake in order to make room inside of it. She was scared of water bottles, would go ballistic when anyone came to the door, loud noises - car horns, construction, trucks, people talking loudly while going past the house would set off a storm of barking. She could turn on a dime, and poor, mellow Raleigh was usually the recipient of these sudden episodes of aggression. We did more training, we saw a doggy therapist, we tried Prozac, we made her walks longer, we set more boundaries. We loved her.



When we found out we were pregnant, we worried about how Lily would react to the baby, but when Poppy arrived we realized that we had been worrying for nothing. She loved Poppy from the second we brought her home, all her instincts to be protective of me switched to being protective of Poppy. She would gently take food from Poppy, sitting patiently and waiting until Poppy offered her the tasty treat. She would oh so gently take the toys Poppy offered her on an hourly basis (we would then spend the next 10 minutes chasing Lily around the house to get the toy back). Poppy would squeal in delight - plainly in cahoots with this now 70 pound barrel of a dog.



Three of four weeks ago Lily started to change; while she stayed devoted to Poppy she seemed to distance herself from us. Her days were spent upstairs on the bed, only coming down when I came home from work. She was more nervous than ever, barking more, oftentimes at nothing. She became irritable with the cats, and very irritable with Raleigh, snapping at him. We practiced watchful waiting, and on some level I began to prepare myself for the worst. This weekend it became readily apparent that Lily was really sick and that we could do no more. We gave her 5 years of love and affection that she may never have otherwise had. We gave her more chances than any other owner would have, we never gave up no matter how difficult her behavior became. We will never know what caused such a rapid decline in Lily's health, or why she had so many "issues" in her short life. Physically the vet suggested an overwhelming infection, or a tumor, what emotional scars she had, well we will never know what she was exposed to before she found herself in the shelter in Tucson, but we all agree she was exposed to some immense cruelty.



Today at 2.15, I sat on the floor with Lily in the "quiet room" at the Angell Animal Medical Center while a lovely vet administered a lethal dose of a general anesthetic. It was very peaceful; she really did just go to sleep. We donated her body to the vet school, in hope that someone can learn from her.



God speed my little Putt Putt Lily Butt. We loved you so much, and that is why we made this hardest of choices so you no longer had to suffer.

New York New York

The following took place in February 19th - 21st
This was my first trip to NYC - we went down to see Lynn off on her year long MSF adventure in India. I was quite intrigued by the city - and even walking around on my own I didn't feel threatened at all - nothing like Philly. We stayed at the New Yorker - got a sweet heart deal on the room even though it was Fashion Week - bless this crappy economy!
I saw the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, Broadway, Times Square, Central Park, 30 Rock - took lots of pictures....We had pizza at Lombardi's the first pizzeria in NYC - it was so fab....
And we got spend time with Lynn who we will both miss like crazy, but we are so incredibly proud of her for doing this amazing thing.

I'm becoming an American

The following occured on January 28th 2009.

It is a very weird weather day. It starts snowing right as we leave for Lowell - and we are still not sure why my swearing in ceremony is all the way by the New Hampshire Border when everyone else we know was sworn in at Fanueil Hall or even the State House (even better Fenway...but it is below 0 and it is January so I can let than one go ..a bit...). So off we go not thinking that driving just 40 some miles could be such a grand adventure...Seriously thank God we had Nessa's Jeep - we had to use 4WD on the damn freeway the snow got so bad. Then we get to itty bitty Lowell and have to park 4 blocks from the place where the ceremony is and it is now almost a blizzard...and it's too late to reconsider. The Man said I need to be there so I am there!.
We get to the convention center (well not really, more like a theater) and I can't even sit with Robert - he is way up in the balcony while I am sandwiched (in the yellow seating area) with 2 people who have seriously tiny bladders and I have to get up every 5 minutes so one of them can pee. I mean come on! There is a blizzard outside so there are no refreshments (as one guy from immigration so cheerfully points out and I think "well there is bloody Dunkin' down the street go and buy lots of coffee - they turned up for work today even if the concession stand folks didn't")
And so we start texting each other:
Rob: "Yay! Crying child by me!"
I send back a photo of me poking my tongue out.
Then the immigration folks start asking the folks who are being sworn in for interpretation abilities - and I am not talking weird languages here I mean they want Italian interpreters....
We wonder how everyone passed the test as you have to be kinda old to be able to waive the English language part of this whole process. But it gets better - they tell us as the whole auditorium is getting restive that the judge who is going to be doing the ceremony isn't leaving Boston until 11am - it is 10, there is now a blizzard, and even without the blizzard it took us almost an hour to get here.
Robert says: "And the result is.....how hard is it to get a judge here at 10am?"
Seems very hard...the texts get more profane as we start making inappropriate Sesame Street jokes and some comments I am really not comfortable repeating in public....but seriously we were there by 0900 and the judge didn't get there until noon??? Holy Cow!
Robert says: "Because our government is dysfunctional - welcome to America"
I have to get up yet again so the small bladders can pee...and I get told off by some officious little man about how this is a courtroom blah blah blah blah blah.....but as Robert says after I text him about my own personal official
"Judge ain't here then this is NOT a courtroom. It is the f...ing future venue of a Pink Floyd cover band"
And we get into a discussion about them confusing the Pink Floyd dudes with the Sesame St show that is also about to be showing there. Of course I mistype and apologize for being an Oscar the Couch.....and the reply is
"Oscar the "crouch" .....hehehehe...that was funny. Not as funny as Oscar the Crotch...but still"
And so it goes on until the judge finally shows up and after 3 hours of waiting with nothing to drink...not even a glass of water (wow maybe this is a reality TV show about what it was like at Ellis Island circa 1800.....) I get to pledge allegiance and all that fun stuff and I file out and get a certificate with some unknown bureaucrat's signature on it and guess what I am an American.

And you know what in spite of everything I am so thrilled - I finally did it, and I did it under a President I actually believe in. I am an American Girl.