Cats and Dogs

About a year ago, we got a dog. 

This dog:

 

 

He doesn't normally look squinty eyed--that's from the flash.  He's a mutt.  Jack Russell mixed with something, that we increasingly think includes wiener dog, because he is so long!  I've never really been a dog person.  I've always thought of myself as a cat person.  We had cats growing up, and they are easy.  They are independent, take care of themselves, love-one-person kind of pets. 

 

But this dog.  I am in love with this dog.  He is so funny.  He will go run in circles around the backyard.  He greets every kid when they wake up in the morning.  He'll lay his head on my lap, and he'll lick the heck out of my fingers.  This dog is special.  I bet thousands or even hundreds of thousands of people say that about their very-special dog every day!

 

Every morning when I get up, I let the cat in for water.

 

This cat, who I've had since college, and who after walking to Silver Spring from Gaithersburg came back to me, and now I feel like he'll live forever:

 



Ritz is 14.  He's my first baby.  That growth on his eye has been there the last few years, and the vet says it won't hurt him.  He had to be put outside, because Number Two is highly allergic to cats.  Poor Ritz. 

I digress.  Every morning, I let this cat in to get some food out of the garage.  He stands and eats it out of the bag, because he cannot wait for me to put a dish with water outside.  Also there's some freaking large rodent outside that is continually eating his food.  Ritz has killed several of these things, but they keep coming back! 

Every morning Skippy follows me to the door.  Every morning I tell Skippy to wait and to stay. Skippy obediently sits.  Skippy stays, for about a millisecond, and then as soon as the cat is in, he chases him, shoving his nose up the cat's butt and trying to get the cat.

Ritz takes all of this in stride, pretty much, turning and usually bopping Skippy on the face.

This morning, as I let the cat in, I readied myself for the usual shuffle of claws against hard woods. Of Skippy chasing the cat as if his life depended on it! Skippy ran up to Ritz, and shoved his nose in his butt, and Ritz looked up at me with these eyes that seemed to say to me, "Really?  Do I have to tolerate this?"

I looked down at Skippy, and I said, "Cats don't really like their butts sniffed."

Things you never think you'll say in your life. 

Skippy put his head toward the floor and bowed down, looking up with me with eyes that seemed to say, "I know I was supposed to stay, but I just can't help it!" 

Man...pets...hours of entertainment!

Fear: Just Another Four Letter Word

I didn't run this morning.  I woke up, and Skippy looked up at me with his big blue puppy dog eyes so I decided to take him for a walk instead.   He's not the best walker.  He stops and sniffs, then he runs, then he barks.  We're working on it.  He's in doggy discipline class.  I forgot the treats though, so I knew there was no way I was going to get anything close to 3 miles in.  I decided to just do a short walk, and I'll go running tonight after work.  I have to make myself accountable. 

Plus, I woke up wanting to work on my story.  Yesterday, I resurrected a Dystopian fantasy I'd started about six months ago.  I'd written almost 20,000 words on the thing and then just stopped.  I don't know why I stopped, because I think it has potential.  Sometimes I stop, because I realize what I've just written is crap, but sometimes I stop because life happens.  I found a short story contest I want to enter, so I'm in the process of paring down the 20,000 words to 5,000 and beefing up the beginning of the story to get it in shape.

I've decided, in order to become a full time writer, I have to be proactive.  I have to be okay sending out my work and getting rejections.  I have to enter contests.  I have to write articles.  In essence, I have to put myself out there.  If you've met me, you know I'm outgoing and you wouldn't think I'd have any problem with self-promotion.  In fact, you could say I am sometimes my own biggest fan.  But for some reason, letting others read my writing has always been SCARY to me, like I'm allowing them to peer inside and see my deepest darkest secrets.  I've broken out of the shell in the last few years, and I've been sending out my work.  I EVEN let my Dad read my unpublished novel.  I never thought in a million years I'd let my Dad read anything, because I worried about his criticism.  He was; however, very supportive and proud of me once I let him see the work shattering all of my unfounded fears. In the back of my mind, I think I knew he would be that way but I was basing my judgment of him on one random incident from childhood and holding onto a fear that I should have overcome a long time ago.   

I'm afraid of heights  I always have been.  And sometimes when you have a huge fear, the best thing you can do is take steps to overcome it.  As a child, I used to push myself to ride roller coasters.  I went zip-lining.  I even tried to rappel once (it did not happen!).  I would climb to the top of mountains and peer over the edge, ignoring the feeling of my heart beating out of my chest.  And that's the same thing I need to do with my writing.  I need to get over this irrational fear of being criticized and being rejected.  Both have already happened, and what happened to me?  Absolutely nothing! I'm still writing.  I'm still pushing forward, and the only way I'm going to get there is to know I can do it and to empower myself.   Send out my work.  Read each rejection and learn something from it, and keep pushing forward--keep promoting myself until I eventually get there.  That's what successful people do.  They propel themselves forward, and they act like they're not afraid even when they're terrified. 

Discipline

Today is going to be a busy Saturday, though much less busy and much more relaxing than a Saturday during meet season.  I love Son Number One's gymnastics meet season, but it wears me out with the travel and the constant running around.  It is always a relief when it is over. 

I did not meet my weekly challenge to run for the rest of the week.  We had a bit of a monsoon, and I didn't really feel like running in a thunderstorm.  Lightning is not my friend.  I hate treadmill running.  For some reason, I completely suck at it.  I can't get going on the treadmill. I feel better when I have the outside world to run in.  It helps me free my mind.  So, today the rain is supposed to dissipate, and I'm planning on fitting in a 2-3 mile run.  I need the routine to enforce the discipline of running, to increase my endurance, and to feel comfortable running a 5K in approximately one month. 

Speaking of 5Ks: I'm running with my office, and I'm trying to fund raise.  You can click here to donate, if you'd like.  It's for the Walk of Life: funding for mammograms for people who can't afford it and for early detection of breast cancer. 

Back to discipline.  Discipline is such an important part of life.   Taekwondo taught me discipline, and it's one reason I miss going there. I also miss the social outlet.  I made some great friends there.  But the discipline is incredible: literally training your body to do what you tell it to do, and having to go a certain amount of times a week and being accountable.  These are all things I'm trying to do on my own now, and it's about ten times harder without people to encourage you.  But I'm doing it.  I'm putting myself out there, and I'm exercising.  I'm making myself have discipline, which is not something that comes naturally to me.  I'm a rule breaker, and I've always been willy nilly and done what I've wanted to do.  I've never cared too much for things that require self control and discipline, but it is a skill and it improves with a little work and requires stepping out of my comfort zone. 

Another member of our family will be working on discipline today too:

That's right: Skippy is starting discipline school.  It's much needed too.  He's a spoiled rotten dog.  He loves to jump up and give kisses.  That's the Jack Russell in him.  He can be so sweet and such a lap dog, but he's developed some bad habits, so we're going to make sure he gets the proper training to be disciplined and do what he's supposed to!  I never thought I could love a dog as much as I love this little guy though.  Just seeing him in the morning makes me smile.

Discipline: the theme of the week in the Greene household.