Girl and Dog

Once upon a time, I used to attempt to leave Georgia out of her crate when I went away. One time I left her with a great new toy and was sure that it would keep her occupied. Oh, it did. I came home to discover that she had thrown herself quite the party.

Note: These pictures were taken shortly after I moved in to my last apartment, so please excuse the disarray and lack of furniture. My place now is neat, cozy, and fully furnished.

She used to chew up anything and everything if she was left unattended. I tried filling kongs with peanut butter and kibble, tried hiding toys and treats around for her to find. She still found other ways to occupy herself. For a while, I would leave her out of her crate but closed in my bedroom when I left. I quickly discovered that I needed to first remove all the pillows from the room and make sure the closet doors were closed (losses: several pairs of underwear, shoes, and two sham pillowcases). That method seemed to work until she decided to pee ON MY BED. The first time it happened, I thought it was a fluke. (I’m a slow learner). The second time, it was no more freedom for Miss G. Back into the crate whenever I left. That had continued until today, because I just didn’t dare to leave her and risk something nice getting destroyed. If I was running down to switch my laundry or take out the garbage, she was fine, but I hadn’t dared to try leaving her out for an extended period.

Today I was going to be gone for about an hour to run an errand, and I decided to give it another shot. I snuck out the door quickly without making a big deal about the fact that I was leaving. I was nervous the whole time and kept wanting to turn around, imagining the destruction that might await my return. I got home, opened the door, and didn’t see anything amiss. I also didn’t see Georgia. My apartment isn’t very big, so I walked into the bedroom, and there she was, on the bed curled up against my pillow. Nothing was chewed. There were no puddles. I have renewed hope for my dog! I don’t know that I would leave her alone for several hours just yet, but this was a big step. She’s GETTING THERE!

I probably haven’t mentioned it before, but I am completely obsessed with pugs.  I just love everything about them.  When I get my own house, Georgia is definitely getting a pug sister (hopefully from a pug rescue organization).  In the meantime, I occasionally spend too much time looking at videos and photos of the scrunchy little guys.  The picture quality of this video is terrible, and it may induce motion sickness, but just listen.  So funny.

I made it my New Year’s Resolution to stop getting plastic bags when shopping. I’ve been doing pretty well so far as I discovered the other day that I didn’t have any bags left to use as trash can liners for the bathroom. I guess it would be greener of me to not use trash bags in the bathroom at all, but I like how clean and easy it is to just lift the bag out when it needs to be emptied.

I purchased a set of these bags in cranberry for myself, and since my mom admired them the last time I went home, she is getting a set of four in Moroccan blue for Mother’s Day. They’re strong and roomy, much softer on your hands to carry when heavy than plastic bags, and the best part is that they fold up into a tiny little square and tuck into their attached pouch. I keep one in my purse all the time and the other three in the car for grocery shopping. I like to think about how many plastic bags I haven’t used, and giving my mom a set will double that impact. A similar product can be found here and comes in fantastic colors, but the attached pouch is what sold me on the Acme bags.

I used to think my parents were just incredibly cheap, but I’ve realized that they actually live pretty greenly. They keep and use the same products and cars for ages. I have an “it’s old and I’m sick of it… replace it!” mentality, but they use the same things for decades, not out of financial necessity, but just because they don’t really NEED something new. I think I may still have a thing or two to learn from the folks.

Today was attempt number two at running 19 miles. I succeeded, more or less. I tried for the first time last weekend, but a combination of factors forced me to admit defeat after only 12. First off, I was totally exhausted from sleeping only two hours a night during finals week. To make matters worse, it was HOT, which we didn’t realize, and we didn’t bring nearly enough water. I was totally dehydrated after 10 miles. Finally, I just didn’t seem to have it mentally.

This time was better, except that now I know what it feels like to hit the wall. At about 17 miles, I just didn’t have anything left. The last four miles were just downright painful and consisted of a combination of running and walking. Don’t tell me I’m not a true runner because I didn’t run the whole way. Trust me, I was happy just to keep moving my legs. Actually, I take that back. I was not at all happy to keep moving my legs. It hurt so freaking bad to move my legs. I was anything but happy. At least the weather cooperated–mid-50s and partly cloudy–so we had that going for us.

Once again, I’m really doubting the feasibility of actually finishing the marathon. Today’s run killed me. I really don’t have a strong desire to run 26.2 miles anymore. I’ve begun to think that running a marathon may be a one time event.

This morning I was awakened by the sweet sound of Georgia getting ready to puke.  That always gets me out of bed in a big hurry.  Fortunately, today she was considerate enough to aim for the rug instead of the carpet.  I’ve been known to rudely drag her onto the linoleum when she started gagging in the past.  I am totally going to be one of those mothers who’s running to the bathroom holding my kid by the elbows while he’s spewing all the way down the hall.  Like that visual?

Anyway, I’m somewhat at a loss to explain how Georgia’s stomach functions.  She doesn’t throw up often, and when she does, 99% of the time I discover that it’s because she swallowed something indigestible (ex: a greasy paper towel stolen out of the trash.  Oh, those paper towels are so tempting!  How could any dog be expected to exercise self control?  Kidding.)  However, there were plenty of times in her youth that she swallowed something that was not food and managed to both keep it down and pass it along naturally.  Things that come to mind include CD pieces, a sock, and the insoles from my running shoes.  This morning the culprit was two blades of grass that she ate before dinner last night.  How does her stomach filter out the kibble and keep the grass from passing through?  It will likely remain a mystery.

Georgia has a small wardrobe of collars that I try to keep in check. Truth be told, I would love to buy every unique collar I see, but I try to limit myself. She has about five–which I don’t think is unreasonable–but that number could double or triple in a hurry if I gave in to my desires. I recently discovered Lucky Fiona on Etsy, and I can’t stop looking at these adorable collars! I want them all! I think I’m going to buy at least one, but I am having an extremely difficult time deciding which one.

Here are some of my favorites:

Aren’t they the best? And they’re not even expensive at $13.99. Collars like this are usually $30 plus. Do you see why I can’t make up my mind? Which one should I order?

I survived my second set of law school finals.  I now have to wait approximately 8 weeks to find out my results.  Don’t they realize that I am not a patient person?!   I’m now enjoying two weeks off before I start my summer term.  It feels so good.  Except…

On Saturday morning, I stepped outside with Georgia for her morning business to discover that the back windshield of my car was broken into millions of little pieces, and there was a gaping hole in one side.  The cause of said hole was a 4-5 inch chunk of pavement sitting on the floor behind the driver’s seat.  Honestly, who throws a rock at someone’s car?  I was so mad.

I hope the thrower really enjoyed his or her 30 seconds of kicks from that, because it cost me several hundred dollars to replace and took up about a day of my time between calling in a police report, calling the insurance company, calling the glass repair place, waiting around for the repairman to come, and waiting around the rest of the day when he discovered that he had originally brought the wrong glass and couldn’t return until evening.  All in all, it was a pain in my butt.  It’s fixed now though, so I’m not going to let it ruin my time off.  Just wondering, is it vengeful of me to hope that the rock thrower’s own windshield gets smashed at some point in the near future?

Yesterday I survived my first final exam (not first final ever, just first final of this finals week).  It went much better than I expected it would, so I walked out of there after three hours feeling all sassy and on top of the world.  I decided to use the restroom before I went home, and wouldn’t you know that I picked the stall with no TP and didn’t discover it until it was too late.  I guess days just aren’t meant to be perfect.

Finals start one week from today and will last for five days. That means that between now and Friday the 18th, I should do nothing but study, operative word being “should.” Coincidentally, spring has finally decided to grace us with her presence–an unfortunate bit of timing. It’s 65 and sunny today. I actually ran in shorts and a tshirt and got sweaty to boot. Gross, yes, but after a winter consisting of runs in sub-zero weather, solid ice, and feet of snow, I’ll happily take sweaty for quite some time.

I may or may not update the blog during the next two weeks. I’ll have to wait and see how I’m doing with my studies and if my brain needs a break. If the updates are scarce or missing entirely, I haven’t abandoned you. I’ll be back in action after the 18th. I’ve been thinking up some ways to make the blog more interesting and consist of more than just journal type entries, so stay tuned. Good things to come in the future.

The marathon training continues.  Yesterday we ran SEVENTEEN miles.  I know.  I’m beginning to doubt my sanity too.  The sad thing is that as insanely far as 17 miles is, it’s still 9.2 miles away from the marathon distance.  There is NO WAY I could have run another 9.2 miles yesterday.  I’m beginning to think that this marathon plan is ridiculous.  I’m pretty sure that bodies (well, at least my body) are not meant to run that far.

After about 10 or so miles, it becomes much easier to keep running than it is to stop and then start again.  If we hit a red light, I usually keep up a jogging motion in place because it’s SO HARD to start to run again.  During the last couple miles, I needed a drink, and Tim had the only full bottle left, so I asked him for it.  I stopped to walk while I drank because I just can’t get enough if I try to drink and run at the same time.  When I finished gulping sports drink, I told myself that I needed to start running again.  I willed my legs to do it.  They didn’t comply.  I said out loud, “Legs, move!”  That cracked Tim up, and he said it reminded him of one of those Sync commercials.  They finally started to “run” again, and somehow I finished.  We made it an entire 17 miles.

The last couple miles were somewhat surreal.  As Tim later described to me, “I couldn’t even tell what my legs were doing the last three miles.  It just felt like they were flopping around down there.”  I couldn’t have said it better.  What stood out to me is that as I got close to the end, all I could think about was stopping.  I just wanted to be DONE.  All I wanted was to be able to stop moving my legs.   The problem is that when I finally did stop, it didn’t hurt ANY LESS.  The pain didn’t stop.  It was JUST AS BAD to be stopped as it was to be running!  I can’t really imagine what 26.2 miles is going to do to me.   It still doesn’t seem possible at this point, but lots of people do it.  I hope that come June 21, I’ll be one of them.