I’m told that the first dog I ever had was Oggie. I was very little and remember absolutely nothing about him. But he was my introduction into the dog world, and maybe his short stay was a foreshadowing of my future relationships with dogs.

The next dog was, I believe, Rug.  Rug was brown, and cute.. he and I saw snow for the very first time together.  Oh, and he was called Rug because he was always underfoot. Maybe he liked to be stepped on, because it happened frequently.  I don’t remember what happened to Rug..  He lived with us in Coventry, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t come with us to West Greenwich, when we moved to the mini-farm.  So he was part of my life for maybe a year, if that long.

When we moved to West Greenwich, we had a little house on about 3 or so acres.  My bedroom had a washing machine in it, and my window faced the back yard.  I snuck out of it more than a few times, when I was 11 and 12. Anyway.. we had a beagle puppy for a very .. very short period of time. I don’t remember his name, I just remember that he would not ever be quiet. His first night at our house, we put a gate up on the pantry door, I think.. and that was where the beagle was going to sleep. Only he didn’t. He cried allllll night. And I remember getting in trouble either that night or the next day for yelling at him to please.. please just be quiet.  He continued to be a very vocal dog, and didn’t last long with us, unfortunately.  I remember he was cute.

Next was Precious. Precious pup. A sweet black and tan coon hound that was adorable, loveable, and fun.  I have pictures of me with her, when she was just a puppy, and when she was a little older — but I confess to you now that I have very little memory of her, except for the last few months we had her.  Our neighbor across the street had some sort of shephard who’d got out and had his way with Precious .. and then she had puppies. A lot of puppies.  At this same time, we had a cat, Stormy, who’d had a lot of kittens.  It was fun watching the puppies herd the kittens.  Around and around the house they’d go, and I never got tired of how comical that was.

The puppies were exuberant, and took joy in everything they did, and they did it as a mob.  Unfortunately, they took a little too much pleasure in tormenting the other animals on the farm, and got to some rabbits that we’d had.  I remember being told that since they’d all gotten a taste of killing, that they weren’t safe dogs to have around other animals anymore.  They were put down, as far as I know. I remember crying a lot over them being gone.   And we didn’t get another dog.

After that, it wasn’t until I was living Ace and his father, Joe, that another dog would come into my life.  Her name was Georgia, and she was a gift to me from Ace. We’d picked her up at a flea market, and she was some sort of fuzzy mutt, with chow in her I think.  She didn’t stay inside with us, which may be why she barked all the time. But we were living in a rental house, and it just wasn’t going to work out.  She was too loud, and there either were going to be complaints, or there already were complaints, and she had to go.

Eventually Ace and I moved out of Joe’s place, and up to Knoxville. We had a tiny little three-bedroom apartment on Broadway in Fountain City, over a vacuum and sewing machine shop.  I don’t remember how Floyd came into our lives, but he left a huge mark on me.  And a huge hole in my heart.

We named our newest dog Floyd because Ace and I were pretty huge fans of Pink Floyd — I still am.  We had a pirhanna named Vera too. For the same reason.  Floyd was an adorable puppy, a mix of wire-hair terrier and husky. He was beautiful to look at, loved to be held, and had soulful eyes.  Like he actually was paying attention to what you were saying and gave a shit, too.

Floyd wasn’t the brightest dog about some things, but he did actually train well on a few things.  He learned to scratch the door when he needed to go out — yeah, I think that was the only thing we ever were able to teach him.  He had a love of bottle caps.  And back then, Ace and I pretty much lived on Diet Coke and Snicker bars, so bottle caps were plentiful.  Floyd’s favorite game was for one of us to put a cap on it’s side and then push down on one end so that the cap would go skittering as fast as possible across the wood floors.  Oh MAN he loved that game.  He would pounce on the cap and try to make it do the same thing, and then whine a little when he couldn’t until we took it and performed our human trick for him.  Ace and I were very much more trainable, apparently.

I remember one time we’d skitted the cap across the floor and Floyd very expertly slapped his paw down on top of it at just the right point so that it fit snuggly up around one of the pads of his paw.  When he moved his paw, he heard that noise that delighted him.. the skittering cap.. but where was it? I don’t remember how long he did that for, but it felt like forever, and Ace and I laughed until tears and pain came.

Floyd liked to go for rides with us in the car, especially if we were going to be stopping at a drive-thru. He was shameless, and not above using his good looks on unsuspecting fast-food workers.

As Floyd got bigger, he got a little louder.. we couldn’t hide the fact from our landlord (who owned the vacuum and sewing machine business downstairs) that we had a dog, and he wasn’t cool with it.  Ace’s grandparents had a house in Powell, about 20-30 minutes away from where we lived, and they had space where Floyd could be happy, we hoped.  We were sad, bringing him up there to stay.. and sad coming home without him. The last I remember hearing of Floyd was that he’d ‘gotten loose’ and run off. We weren’t ever able to find him, and I was heartbroken. I’d felt like we’d abandoned him, and now he might be out in the cold, without any home at all, and it was all our fault.  I still feel that way, 15 years later.  I haven’t had a dog since then, and I won’t.. not until I’m sure I have the right home for him, and for me.

I guess there’s not really been anything uber important to say.

Well, ok, I take that back. Some things have been going on.

1) I’m almost done with the State Dept. medical tests. Will know within a month whether or not I go onto the next stage (that being a reveiw board, panel type thing).

2) Sort of talking to someone who may turn out to be someone interesting in my life. We’ll see.

3) Found out my cousin is a published fantasy writer, writing under a pen-name. See her page at http://emmasharonrich.tripod.com/emmasharonrich/id1.html

4) I just hung curtains in my room tonight.

Yes, life is uber exciting here.

The maintenance guy finally came and painted the three patches we had in our walls from where they installed new phone/cable lines.

AAAAaaand, he’s coming back sometime today to drill two holes for me in the shower so I can finish installing our new shower head! Joy!

More conversation with Roy. I’m basically at my wits end. He’s a nice guy. And if he’s serious about half the shit he spouts off, then he really cares for me a lot. I, however, have been remaining behind my nice and safe wall of apathy, because really, the last thing I want in the world is to have my head jerked around again like Mr. Mike from New Jersey. You’re still an asshole. No, I don’t want to be friends with you. And if you keep talking to my Mom like she says you are, I’ll come up there and kick your ass like the ghetto bitch I ain’t.

Head games suck ass. And he was a master of them. And the dude is older than me! What sort of idealistic world is it I’m living in, when I think that older people are supposed to have it together??

Talked with someone else the other night about the whole, “I like you as a friend” crap, too. What a crock that is. All I hear when a guy I like and want to get to know better tells me that is: Yeah, you’re nice, but you’re not up to my standards. However, I’m going to puss out and tell you that I just want to be friends so that I don’t have to actually use up one of my precious Honesty cards.

Grar. Heh. Dammit. I went from having a good post to having a psycho bitch post. Yay! It’s great to be a girl. )

So, I’ve got an interview on Thursday. No games night for me on Friday, goin’ out with my GRRRL from out of town who needs to get her ass down here more often. I hear there are hijinx and shenannigans planned for the weekend as well. Some even say…some tomfoolery. So long as I get to see Spiderman. I’ve totally been procrastinating on that.

zammis and Karl brought me a goodie from FSG! It’s this exfoliating stuff, awesome as hell. Feels like a million dollars going on, and feels like an unexpected tax refund coming off. Daaaaamn good. Many MUAs to them both.

OK. Woo. Got through most of today’s update without going into a depressed tirade. I think that deserves a cocktail.