2012 day 1 of re-climitizing | gnawed and rope wrestled to death

she is good company, constantly forcing me to pull my head out of my head. “ouchy, that wasn’t the rope you just clamped onto.”

every now and again i glance over at her and she stirs my memory of peabeaux (a very sleek red golden retriever of 15 years) who passed in 2004 and still sits on the mantle of the old casa in ash form in his blue urn (as certified by a notarized certificate from the state of texas. really. they do that.). one of those weird things. at his 15, I thought I was pretty prepared for what was coming. figured logic and understanding somehow would neuter or circumvent grief. nope. it comes in waves and moves through my body and mind of its own accord with utter disregard for. my logic or preference. so when the vet asked what to do, did we want…I was so distraught, I thought I should say yes in case I actually did need some kind of ritual of release. I didn’t, so he remained on the mantle with his master. grief came and went. it was not drawn out or long for the family beast, but a bit surprisingly intense. I had been lead to believe I didn’t have good or deep attachments! ha, wrong-O. I definitely do not have a problem attaching. peabeaux was the beginning of my uncovering of the bunk of my supposed detachment issues. some social ill ease, yup, but no problem bonding. my problem is far more related to de-taching, in-bonding. I suppose this comes to mind as I settle back at the hermitage and my microforest experiencing a smidge of living community withdrawals. I do require alone time, down time and certain social settings exhaust me, but I am not a loner. I prefer a small tribe, perhaps it is even why I labeled my former group of 17+ years as such!

Thursday I podcast myself across the USA. I listened to an interview with t
a woman who leads the NEA for individual writer grants. she spoke of a previous position in a slightly altered field were her sense was “these are not my people.” when she transitioned, she finally came into an awareness that “these are my people.”

when I went to thinktank this summer, I got an inclination of this sensation because of a like mindedness and wiring with a hint of mutual field specific calling. again it tickled at I-park. I definitely get it with a handful of my grandgirls as I do with my brothers. with them, it’s an innate chemistry and way of seeing life, not profession. I pick it up with individual souls as well. but I’ve not found a tribe or built one in which I overwhelmingly trust, “these are my people” (not in sameness, just in a visceral connectedness).

so I revisit more recent communal withdrawal as I continue to contemplate my dream casting and the role community will play (AND PROCRASTINATE UNLOADING THE BACK OF THE TRUCK).

back to the Dopt, she is a she, far more independent than the beaux, extremely forward in her demands for attention. she is a nibbler and gnawer–pillows, lawn furniture, garments, hands, legs, and arms. expect to be nuzzled, poked and prodded until your course follows her intent–she WILL herd you. she cannot be bribed with treats–if she diesnt want ti, she will overtly resist (and actually spit out the treat). she is stubborn. she is prone to attempts at licking arm pits! (yuck. stop). put if you put your foot down and go alpha, she’ll absolutely adore you. fickle female! currently my dad is her current alpha and she is smitten with him.

oh now I remember why I am still procrastinating. note feels like temp. omg!


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