I am writing this entry looking out the window with the taste of freedom still fresh on my tongue. El Toro is asleep as usual. For her, freedom is simply the ability to live with adequate food, water, and shelter. I however, had much greater aspirations for my own liberation. I have been siting on this bench, which is located next to a large window, watching the snow fall for the past two days outside. I had dreamt about seeing the world outside many times when I was at the mill. I imagined running on the velvety green grass as it brushed my underbelly while I pranced in a field, a backyard, or even a city park. I once had hoped that when freedom had found me that I would visit a lovely coffee shop and smell the bold aroma of cocoa beans and cinnamon, even if just from right outside the door because dogs are not allowed inside. Damn you Luongo, the lying Dachshund who told me stories of hope while in captivity, of his life before he was taken to the mill. He never mentioned t
Shhh, come a little bit closer. As I type this Pequeno is asleep and I am in a haze of pure delight. My owners are busy working and I have taken control of the television. As my paws anxiously try to push the buttons on the remote control I come across my most pleasurable guilty pleasure. As the channel scrambles and comes into focus I see pure television entertainment. Rock of Love Bus Tour is on and I am immediately drawn in. Scantily clad women, absent of personality, are playing hockey with a doll, all in an effort to win the affections of Poison's lead singer, Bret Michaels. I gasp. I sit in awe. I am...entranced. I write this hoping that Pequeno does not wake up and witness what is going on. If she were to awaken and see Rock of Love on the television she would begin to berate me. You see, Pequeno is the type of dog that watches the History Channel and the Discovery Channel, she does not believe in the merits of reality t.v. I must enjoy this hobby alone. Alas, I have to leav
If you were to ask my husband or family, they would tell you that I have a flair for the dramatics. Life is too beautiful, too painful, too much for me at times. And, while I love that I can appreciate the moments in life so deeply, I also kind of hate it. The confusing part is that even though I feel I am in touch with how I feel about change, I don't allow myself to express it. Instead, I get nauseous, lose sleep, take multiple naps in a day, and watch a lot of Netflix. At least I can now acknowledge my coping skills, right? In 16 days, my new hubby and I will pack up our Pittsburgh apartment and move to NC so that H can attend acupuncture school. When I moved back to Pittsburgh in 2010, I really thought I had landed in the city where I would always live. But, life had other plans when I met and fell in love with H. The South is now calling my name, ever reluctanctly and quietly. We have known for a year that we would be moving to NC this summer and that has been both
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