…Worth a Thousand Words

The day I had to say goodbye forever to my beloved dog Beau I had the wonderful C and my good friend D there to hold me up (literally) and to help me keep it together.  I could not have made it though that impossible time without them.

Immediately after getting home from the vet’s office I packed up all Beau’s things and C and I took them to the humane society.  All his collars and leashes, toys, bedding, extra food, medication, even his carrier bag in which he’d accompanied me on many flights back to my parent’s place (I would bring it out of the closet and he’d immediately get into it and if I wasn’t leaving right away, I would have to encourage him to get out).  All unceremoniously stuffed into garbage bags and removed from my apartment amidst a blur of tears.

The only things I kept, and I have no idea why, really, are his food and water dishes.  One had been a gag gift to my dad, so I suppose I kept it because it wasn’t necessarily mine, though I’d had it for ages but the other was nothing special and yet I kept it.  They are not part of the “makeshift memorial” I have constructed on part of a shelf on my bookcase – which does contain an old collar of his, what few photos of him that I have, a memorial impression I had done of his paws and the wooden box I bought to hold his ashes in.  Instead, they lurk in the back of a high shelf in a kitchen cupboard, untouched, unused and ignored.

For some reason I thought of them today.  I was putting something into the cupboard they are in and for some reason I thought of them and of him and now I sit at one in the morning, unable to sleep, tears running down my face and turning to my blog-therapy.

I didn’t take the bowls down and look at them, just knowing they are there, and he’s not here anymore was enough.   It’s not like it is a significant date to memorialize – Beau’s birth was in December, his death in July; I’ve just been thinking about him more than usual of late.

I guess I’ve been thinking a lot about Beau lately because a couple of friends have recently gotten new puppies which make me both simultaneously want and not want a new dog.  As tonight’s sleepless & tearful blog proves, I am not over Beau’s death – someone please tell me when this ache will end?

I regret very little about Beau’s life, our time together was wonderful, he was an awesome dog (I know I’ve blogged about how great he was before); but the one thing I really do regret was not taking many photos of him.  The problem was he, like me, hated having his picture taken  - he’d see the camera and look like like a hunted animal caught in the rifle’s crosshairs. Anytime he was conscious of the camera, he didn’t look his fun and furry self.  But I wish I took more photos, I wish I had more to remember him by.  I  think my good friend D, who spent 3 weeks living with Beau when I was prancing about Peru took more photos and video of Beau than I ever did.  I know I took more pictures in the last year of Beau’s life than I did in the other 14.5 years he was on this planet.

Since his death, I have carried a photo of him in my phone, as the background of my MP3 player and a metal ring from one of his rabies tags on my shoelace and fittingly, as I booted up my Mini PC to write this blog, I was greeted by Beau’s fluffy face on my computer’s background.  I have spent  more time and effort keeping him with me on a daily basis since his death than I ever did when he was alive. 

And maybe that’s tonight’s cautionary tale (or is that tail).

Don’t wait until it’s too late to remember those you love – be they furry and four-legged, feathered, scaly, etc, or even human.  Take plenty of photos so when they are not around you can still have them close.  And carry those you love, in your heart, memory or even as photos on your phone.  And never miss an opportunity to hug them and tell them you love them.

Small Victories and Acceptable Cheats

At work, for the last three weeks, I have dreaded going down the hallway to the washroom. And before you get all worried about the content having anything to do with washroom activities let me assure you it doesn't. But it does have everything to do with the one thing that has really been annoying me for the last month or more - my lack of willpower.

You see, one of the women in one of the offices that share the hallway with both my office and the washroom has been attempting to sell chocolate covered almonds (as a fund raiser for worthy offspring, no doubt) for the last three weeks. And so, for the last three weeks, I have had to harden my resolve, leave my money in my desk (when I head out to "spend a penny") and do everything in my power to stop myself from buying "evil in a box".

Since I really love both chocolate and almonds I have to admit it was rather challenging. On a couple of occasions my resolve wavered and I put a couple of dollars in my pocket before heading down the hallway but every time, I left the money in my pocket and the chocolate in the hall and proved (if only on a really small scale) that I do have some willpower.

As of Thursday this week, the chair that held the box that contained the "evil in a box" no longer sat, temptingly in the hallway. No longer was the temptation lurking around the corner as I made my way to the washroom - finally, I had safe passage - I was so relieved.

So, what's the point - you may be wondering - why share with whoever is reading my WC willpower? The answer is simple, I want to celebrate it as a Small Victory.

I bang on about how hard it is to keep to a training and nutrition regimen but I don't stop to celebrate when I manage to do something that helps get me to my goal. Or more to the point in this case, I manage to NOT do something that would detract from my stated aim.

Recognizing the Small Victories are probably more important than underlining all the failures that happen in a week. If you say to someone - "Don't think about the elephant in the room" ultimately the only thing they will think about is the pesky pachyderm.

So rather than listing off the things that went wrong, I want to emphasize the things that went right!

To that end, I have to state that I had some "evil in a bag" this week - HOWEVER I don't see it as a failure, because rather than the family sized bag of Old Dutch Baked Dill Pickle Chips I had a small bag (only 50 Calories!) - and I have considered this an Acceptable Cheat.

Though I do feel that abstinence (when it comes to junk food) is best, if the craving really strikes I have devised a series of what I term Acceptable Cheats that allow me to give in to my craving without completely sabotaging my progress or leaving me feeling like I need to spend the next several weeks berating myself for my lack of self control.

I hope this new approach will help get me where I want to go; so here's to Small Victories & Acceptable Cheats! May the former be plentiful and the latter as few as possible!