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Several years ago when we lived in a rented apartment, we had a mixed bag of neighbors. There were a few problem people, such as the drunk who lived behind us, whose daily vomiting we could hear through the bathroom vents and who had either the fire department, paramedics or police showing up at least once a week. Or the girl up and over from us who regularly beat the crap out of her boyfriend. There were some people who were great neighbors, always looking out for each other, making friendly conversation, and lending a helping hand whenever it was needed. And there were a few who just kept to themselves, which is okay, too.
When we bought the condo, I didn't expect things to be much different - or at least I didn't expect them to be worse. I thought that, if anything, people who owned a piece of the property would take pride in doing their part to keep it a pleasant place to live. What I didn't count on, was that so many units would be owned by people who live elsewhere and rent them out, with apparently no better standards than the large real estate corporation that owned our old apartment, or that many of the neighbors who do own their units would be more interested in making it a pleasant place to live only for themselves, not for anyone else.
The first clue that we had arrived in neighbor hell came when one neighbor, less than a week after we moved into what was supposedly a "pet friendly community", welcomed us with a complaint to the condo board that our dog barked. Well, no kidding! She was adjusting to new, strange surroundings, with new sounds and new people walking around outside. And even without all that, dogs sometimes bark. It's what they do. So it's a pet friendly community, as long as your pet doesn't do what pets do? This person never came to our door to make introductions, welcome us to the neighborhood, or even give us a heads up that the dog was having some issues when we weren't home and we might want to confine her somewhere where she wouldn't be able to see out the windows until she got used to her new surroundings. Nope, they saw someone new move in and went right into "what can we find to complain to the board about" mode.
To be fair, we weren't completely surrounded by neighbors as bad as that one... at first. The lady next door to us when we first moved in was great, actually... about as perfect a neighbor as one could wish for. She was quiet, never complained about anything, kept late hours and didn't mind if things got a little rowdy when we had company. She always tried to be friends with Chiquita, even though Chiquita wasn't interested in being friends with anybody. And when Chiqui passed away and we got Brooskey and Vixen, she welcomed them as well. Unfortunately, she too passed away, about two years ago.
In her place, we now have pretty much her polar opposite. This woman is a complete fruit loop, has regular screaming matches with her daughter-in-law, her sons, her mother, and yes, even herself... she yells out her front door when there's no one outside she could be talking to. She's a compulsive liar, leaves nasty notes on people's doors, goes up on people's porches to scream at their pets (and I mean she has done this to several people, not just us), all while letting her own cat roam the property freely, tormenting our dogs and crapping on our decks and walkways.
Add to this a neighbor above us on one side with small grandchildren whose idea of a good time is leaping off of furniture onto the hardwood floors, while she and her daughter scream and whine at them, teaching them to scream and whine back. And newly moved in on the other side, a family of four in which the mother and daughter have screaming, dish throwing fights on nearly a daily basis. Oh yes, we are in neighbor hell.
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I know I haven't written anything yet this week. I've been too busy designing and sending out our Christmas e-card, writing out the few snail mail cards I'm sending this year, and decorating our pathetic little Christmas tree.
The tree has no lights. This is not something I'm happy about, but something or someone really did not want me to have lights on my tree, and I finally gave up. You see, we went to Benny's, which is this local store chain I can't really describe except to say it's just the place you go for these things. We bought a battery-operated string of twenty lights, because it was going to be difficult to run a cord from the dining room table to the wall, especially with two puppies who still like to chew on new and interesting things. When we got them home, we found that despite the picture of multi-colored lights on the box, these were actually clear bulbs, indicated only by the words "clear bulbs" in tiny print on the corner of the box. This is not okay with me. So we went back. The colored lights only came in strings of ten, so we bought two. When we got home and opened the first set, we found it had a broken bulb. This wasn't a problem, as we happened to have a few spare bulbs. But the second string is defective. This isn't just a dead bulb... each bulb is dimmer than the last as you move away from the battery pack, until about halfway down the string where they just fail to light at all. Now, the one working string just isn't long enough, and I wasn't waiting another day to get this stupid tree decorated, so that's it... no lights. The original set of clear lights is now wrapped around my monitor and across my desk at work, and the ten multi-color lights? Maybe I'll put them up on Chiquita's memorial shelf or something.
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This is the weather conditions when I got to work this morning. It's FREAKING COLD. It's only a few degrees warmer now. I'm actually glad I'm not going home for lunch; I get to stay inside at work while Chris goes out in the cold to bring me food.
We got our first snowfall yesterday. It wasn't much, but enough to cover the grass. The sun melted it a little bit yesterday before the temperature started plummeting, but the ground is still mostly white. Last winter when Vixen was still little, we kept her inside and used wee-wee pads, so she never got to experience snow. Knowing Chihuahuas and their tropical preference, we thought she was going to hate it, but when she went out yesterday she didn't seem to mind it at all. She didn't react to it being cold on her feet, just ran around sniffing and licking it. Chiquita used to come in from the snow crying and licking her feet, but Vixen couldn't have cared less. Regardless, we chose not to take her out once the icy winds started blowing in last night, and in return she did us the courtesy of having her accident on the bathroom tile, instead of on the carpet or in the laundry like she usually does.
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I seem to have a bit of writer's block lately. So how about some random recent mundane happenings in my life?
As I write during my afternoon break at work, it's starting to thunder out. We had our first decent thunderstorm of the year last night, and it's looking like we might get an encore performance tonight. Both the dogs handled it with flying colors last night. I knew it wouldn't bother Brooskey - nothing scares him - but I was worried about Vixen. Chiqui used to disappear under the bed at the first distant rumbles. But Vixen, cowardly as she is, seemed only mildly curious about the thunder. Actually it seemed all that static electricity must have charged her up. Shortly after the storm, she started running sprints up and down the hallway and around the loveseat where I was camped out watching TV. It cracked me up because that's exactly what Chiqui used to do when she got hyper in her younger years. I hadn't even realized that she hadn't done that for quite a while before she died.
And speaking of Vixen, I'm almost afraid to say it for fear that I'll jinx it, but it looks like we might finally be making some progress with her potty training. She's taking care of business almost every time we take her outside, and when she does have an accident inside it's usually because we waited too long to take her out. She hasn't yet figured out how to ask to go out. When we had Brooskey in puppy school they talked about teaching them to ring a potty bell hanging from the door. We never needed it with him since he would just jump up and try to open the door himself, but maybe we'll give it a try with Vixen.
It figures this would turn into a dog update. I guess when they're what dominates my life... 
Keep reading...
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It's official - I'm now a mother of two. Little Vixen arrived Friday night after a long day of travel. Three different flights, two of which were delayed, making her arrival about two hours later than expected. She did great, though, and is adjusting to her new home like a champ.
She and Brooskey are getting used to each other a lot faster than I thought they would. Brooskey loves her, but I'm not sure he understands yet that she's not just a wind-up toy. Vixen's opinion of Brooskey is a little less enthusiastic, but she does play with him and give him kisses until he gets on her last nerve, and then it's back to me for protection. I think once the novelty wears off and he gets used to her being around, he won't harass her so much.
Here's one thing the two of them have in common: they're both escape artists. I've written before about how Brooskey got out of his temporary sleeping arrangement in the bathroom his second night home. Vixen has the same arrangement for now, and she also managed to escape her second night. How, you ask? Not by jumping over the gate like Brooskey had done, but by chewing a hole through it! You see, we actually own two "doggie gates". One of them we only recently bought at a pet supply store, and is designed for dogs. The other was actually a baby gate that Chris' mom used to use with his niece and nephew, which she gave to us for Chiquita after the kids had outgrown it. The difference between the two, is that while the gate designed for dogs has a metal wire mesh, human babies don't generally chew their way through things, so the gate designed for them has a mesh made of a rubbery plastic. You can guess which one we were using to keep Vixen in the bathroom. Now don't worry, she didn't eat any of the plastic... she left the pieces she needed to remove to attain her freedom in a neat little pile for us to pick up in the morning. We are now using the gate with the wire, and there have been no more escapes. Still, we're closing the bathroom door when we're not home, just in case.
Vixen has a great personality. She's a little kissing machine and washes all three of our faces thoroughly every day. Her absolute favorite place to be is in my lap, and I'm more than happy to accommodate. And the most amazing thing... despite the fact that she's a wiggle worm, I can pick her up in my arms and carry her, and she holds perfectly still for me.
A quick update on Brooskey, too. He started his intermediate obedience class last week, and is working on learning to stay with distractions, to wait at doors until told to go through, and "targeting", which means picking up or otherwise acting on an object when we point to it with a stick. And he's still growing - weighing in at thirty-seven pounds last week!
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This past year was quite the year for me. It brought some of the highest and some of the lowest points of my life so far. Though the lows were agonizing, experiencing the roller coaster ride that is life to such extremes has made me feel more alive than I have in a long time.
Early in the year, we made the decision to use part of our tax refund to take our first Walt Disney World vacation. This was the main focus of my life for the greater part of the year, possibly much to the annoyance of those around me (and reading confoozled.com) at times. The trip wasn't until late August, however, and many other major events would take place before then.
The end of March brought both a low and a high within days of each other. A life ended, and a new one began. I still find myself unable to describe the mix of emotions I went through that week.
A few weeks later I took a short trip home to Oregon to visit my family and meet my new nephew, the fifth child to have the privilege of calling me "Auntie". It was too short, especially with my sister and the rest of them living so far apart now, meaning I was only able to spend two days in each place. But it was great to spend time with them regardless, especially with little Dylan in my lap most of the time that I was in Veneta.
The early summer months saw my first small watercraft ride, a life-changing discovery, and something which I haven't yet mentioned here. I learned my parents were getting divorced. This didn't come as a huge surprise, but that's not to say I didn't have an emotional reaction when I first found out. It really is the best thing for all involved, though, and I hope that it finally brings some peace to both of them.
Keep reading...
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Brooskey will be eleven weeks old this weekend! He's growing like a weed; I can honestly say he's now twice the size he was when he came home with us just three weeks ago. He's growing so fast that his harness, which had been adjusted to fit him perfectly a few nights ago, was too tight the next morning.
He's doing great with his crate training, but not so great with the housebreaking. There are two main problems getting in the way here. When we catch him going inside, the "experts" say we're supposed to use a "no" or "eh", or a loud, sharp sound, to interrupt the behavior, then take him outside to finish. But absolutely nothing startles him - he finishes anyway, and then nothing happens outside because his bladder is already empty. The second problem is when we do actually manage to get him outside before he goes, there are so many distractions that he forgets all about peeing or pooping. He'd much rather eat leaves and weeds, and go visit everyone he sees. No matter how long we keep him out there, he never goes until two minutes after we've finally given up and brought him back in. Since we live in a condo, there isn't really a more private, distraction-free area to take him to. I'd happily welcome any suggestions anyone has on this.
It's been fun getting to know his personality, and at the same time bewildering just how opposite he is to his "big sister". Chiquita loved soft, cushy surfaces, and to be covered and wrapped and as warm as possible. Brooskey prefers to sleep on hard, cold surfaces. His favorite spot is under the coffee table (it has a solid platform under it), but I've also seen him crash in the middle of the ceramic tile in the kitchen. Chiquita wouldn't have been caught dead doing this - in fact, she refused to even step onto certain floors. When he does sleep on something softer, the cushy dog bed we bought him or a spare pillow we've been keeping in the living room, he tosses and turns, moans and groans, and eventually gets up and moves to something harder. He's absolutely not a snuggler, which bums me out, because his fur is so wonderfully soft and would feel so good keeping my feet warm while we watch TV at night. Chiquita, on the other hand, always had to be touching one of us... and if Chris and I were cuddling ourselves, she had to climb right in the middle.
Brooskey, just like his sister, is spoiled rotten and has lots of toys which we bought over several trips to the pet stores before and after we brought him home. His favorites, though, are an empty water bottle he got ahold of one day, which we subsequently removed the label from so he wouldn't peel it off and eat it bit by bit, and soda boxes! When we finish off a box we toss it on the floor and let him chase it around for a while. This, thankfully, is very effective in burning off the huge bursts of energy he gets after being cooped up in his crate while we're at work.
He'll be going for his second vet visit and second set of puppy shots next Friday. It will be interesting to see just how much weight he's gained. I'm convinced he has at least doubled the six pounds he weighed at his last checkup.
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For the past few weeks we have been preparing for a new addition to our family. We've bought furniture and bedding, toys and supplies. We've made numerous phone calls to plan our travel, secure a place to stay, and finalize the adoption. And tonight we will drive to Albion, New York, where tomorrow morning we will receive our new bundle of joy.
Brooskey is an eight-week-old English Springer Spaniel. He is named after Chris' favorite New England Patriot, Tedy Bruschi (if I had it my way, his name would be Brady!  ). It's been almost three months since the passing of our dear sweet Chiquita, and some will say that's not long enough to wait. But they're wrong. We know in our hearts the time is right, and the truth is we just can't go any longer without a furry little child to share our hearts and our home with.
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I absolutely cannot believe we're leaving for Florida one week from today. I thought this was going to be the longest six months of my life, and I think it was actually the shortest. Dear, sweet Chiquita has been gone for a month already, and I still miss her terribly, but we are seriously starting to think about bringing somebody new home within the very near future. My coworker Mike was right when he said you can't go for very long without a furry friend around, especially when you've been used to having one for so many years.
But anyway, back to the trip. One final look at the to-do list...
buy new camerabuy airline ticketsmake restaurant reservationsmake final trip paymentfind/get wheelchair cup holdersget new bathing suitget new adult size arm floatiesget new sneakers- lose those last stubborn
15 18 lbs. (6.5 left) - get wheelchair bag
get wheelchair tires fixed/replacedget new sunglasses
Obviously I'm not going to lose six and a half pounds in the next week, but I'm very happy with how far I've come and how close I am to my goal. I spent some time in front of the mirror last night, and I barely recognize myself. I have a waist again, something I haven't seen in a couple of years. And my hips have narrowed down considerably. And apart from being happy with how I look, I feel great, too. I'm going to enjoy all those delicious restaurants at Disney World without feeling guilty, and when we come back I'm going to finish working toward my goal weight. After that I will take some time off for the holidays, and then I'll start setting five-pound mini-goals for myself, with breaks in between. My ultimate goal is to try to get as close as possible to what I weighed in high school, but realistically I'll be happy with simply maintaining a weight in the healthy range for me (of which my current goal weight is the upper end).
Keep reading...
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Last Wednesday was probably the worst day of my life. And the days following were not much better. I would come to work and spend the whole morning crying. In the afternoons I would find something to keep my mind occupied and I would be okay for a few hours. And then I had to go home. Being home is the hardest, because she's supposed to be there. I mean, when I'm away from home, it's almost like I can pretend that everything is normal and Chiqui is waiting for us at home (of course I know that's not the case, but I just don't have to face it for a while). But when I am home and she's not there, is when reality sinks in. Even worse is being home alone, and the worst is going to bed, lying there waiting to fall asleep, and not having her there under the covers, snuggled up against my feet or the bend in my knees, licking the mattress (her own way of soothing herself to sleep).
When the weekend hit, we went into keep-busy-and-don't-think mode. We began cleaning up around the house, putting away the mounds of clean laundry that had been accumulating in the bedroom for months, and with the help of Chris' parents, finished up painting the office and got a good start on the hallway. The walls were a mess and had to be sanded, repaired, and smoothed out, then primed. While the heavy work was being done on Sunday afternoon, I went out with my ex-neighbor Muriel and got a good dose of retail therapy. And Chris' mother was kind enough to come over today while we were working, and finish the painting in the hallway. We went with a pastel yellow, "Banana Cream" actually, and it has really brightened the place up.
Saturday was the first day that I didn't cry. I would have made it through Sunday, too, if I hadn't gotten a big bear hug from Chris' mom. I did all right yesterday, but had a small meltdown come out of nowhere this morning. We are starting to be able to talk about her, even laugh and reminisce about all the nutty things she used to do. And I feel like she's made contact with us a bit, too (go ahead, call me crazy, I really don't care). She had a prominent presence in both of our dreams a few nights ago. And... now this is really going to sound crazy... See, we live right in the flight path for planes landing at T. F. Green Airport. It gets impossible to watch TV at busy times of the day, as you can't hear anything over the planes. We used to jokingly tell Chiquita to go out and "get" the planes for us... to make them stop. Well, on Sunday evening we both realized we hadn't heard one airplane in several days. They did start back up yesterday, which we noticed right away because it had been so quiet.
So, if we hadn't discovered yesterday morning that someone had stolen our satellite radio out of the Pathfinder, I would say that it was a pretty good weekend, in spite of the pain and loss we are going through.
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![[photo of Chiquita]](http://www.confoozled.com/confoozion/archives/chiquita-thumb.jpg) This is quite possibly the most difficult post I have ever had to write. Two days ago, my beloved ten-year-old chihuahua, Chiquita, went to be with the angels. Her daddy and I are heartbroken. We knew she was getting older, but it happened very quickly and unexpectedly, and in a way I feel like we were robbed. Like if we had known we only had a short time left with her, we would have spent more time with her and given her more attention, and we'd have had time to prepare ourselves. It just feels so unfair to have her ripped away from us like this.
The one thing we have to be grateful for, is that we were able to be by her side as she was peacefully put to rest (after all attempts to restore her breathing had failed). My biggest fear was of coming home one day to find she had died all alone, and I am grateful that it didn't happen that way.
The photo above is the last one ever taken of her. It was taken about three-and-a-half months ago. I am working on a little therapeutic project using more of her photos, which I will post when it is finished.
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As news reports all over the country feature local pets that have died in connection with the recalled wet food, there are still no definitive answers as to what is in the food that is making these poor little guys sick. While home at lunch today, I saw mention on a TV news teaser about rat poison being the possible culprit, but I haven't found anything online to confirm that.
We don't feed our chihuahua, Chiquita, any wet food, but the dry food we do feed her is the same brand as some of the wet food that's been recalled. Though the claims right now are that only wet food is affected, I am anxious to see what really turns out to be responsible, and whether it is a result of some kind of neglectful practice that could have the potential to affect the manufacture of dry food as well as wet. If it is due to some kind of neglect on the manufacturers' part, you can bet that we will be changing brands... because if that's the kind of practices they employ, it's only a matter of time before they do something to screw up the dry food as well.
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Summer is here! It made its entrance last weekend with a series of good ol' New England thunderstorms... including lightning strikes to a house in East Providence and a trailer park in North Attleboro.
After the stormy weekend, the heat arrived, and this time it looks like it's here to stay... yay! I took my first dip in the pool yesterday (Friday), the first time I've ever gone in June. Usually the water isn't warm enough until late July or August, but the two days we had with temperatures in the 90s this week was enough to make the water perfect - still cold when you first get in, but once you're used to it, you never want to get out.
My heat-loving chihuahua and I are very pleased indeed.
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![[photo of our mini Christmas tree on the dining room table]](http://www.confoozled.com/archives/2008tree-thumb-150x200.jpg)
![[weather conditions: temp 16F, wind chill 4F]](http://www.confoozled.com/archives/Clipboard01-thumb-200x71.png)
![[photo: Vixen's first time in the snow]](http://www.confoozled.com/archives/vixensnow-thumb-150x200.jpg)
![[photo of me]](http://www.gravatar.com/avatar/7fe9c3e52fcd03d2253441f7ddc89ab3.jpg?size=144)
![[album thumbnail]](/photos/albums/userpics/10001/thumb_img_0986.jpg)
![[album thumbnail]](/photos/albums/flood2010/thumb_IMG_0112.JPG)
