Off My Blog I’m Really Pissed

Lately, there’s a whole lot more going on off my blog than on it so that, showing up here has been painful. Painful in the sense that I’m grasping to find words to keep up with my ideas,  pushing away words that connect to what I really want to blog about. But because these words don’t fit my niche, would be bitchy and unkind, even though they would relieve a lot of my pent up emotions and help me get clear on a few things:  I’m trying to hold off.

I realize that this is a bit cryptic. Deliberately. There are privacy issues (good privacy issues) at stake that need to be respected.  So, the trick challenge becomes how to write around this. Or, to avoid writing about it altogether while leaving something here that functions as “X marks the spot,” that says: “Hey, everyone, I’m still here just not blogging anything substantial today.”

Some things that haven’t changed:

1. The dogs are all good. I’ve got a few recent photos of Gracie and because she always makes me smile, I’ll let her work her magic here:

"American Staffordshire Terrier head shot"

You have to look really carefully to see her eyes.  She’s sitting on the landing going up to the second floor of my house, looking down at my husband who’s trying out the photo-taking part of his new smart phone.

Note that she’s on leash. Still.

After three months with us, she really (really!) wants to play with one of my cats.

Any guesses?

Until we see evidence that she’s not going to give chase every time she sees Onyx/Mac, Gracie’s off leash time inside is going to be very closely monitored.

She’s slowly showing us who she is. What we love so far: she’s great with other dogs. (Take that, all of you people who back off when you see her or believe all of the stereotypical hype about dangerous dogs pit bull mixed breed dogs.)  She’s gained 12 pounds since we brought her home from the shelter, which means that she’s a svelt 60 pounds. Her coat color has deepened to a rich blend of black-tipped browns and cream. She’s better at riding in the car, is beginning to walk very nicely on leash, mostly because we’ve been unrelenting about trying different harnesses.

She’s discovered marrow bones, melon; knows to expect a short walk early in the morning as part of her routine, has figured out that she can chase Tessa when Tessa’s agreeable; and she’s incredibly patient. That’s part of what’s wired into her DNA which makes her such a joy.

She still thinks that my son hung the moon which is good because, lately, off my blog, he needs her calm understanding and silliness. She holds off on all of that explosive speed that pits are known for until she sees his car pull into the driveway after he’s been at work all day.

There. I’m feeling better already.

Almost.

Thanks for letting me (cryptically) vent. I’ll do the same for you. When I can.

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