Summer Nap

The Pet Blogger

I can't remember where I read it, but somewhere I read a rant about poets who blog too much about their pets. You're either an animal person or not. And with pugs, well, they are similar to Jeeps...if you don't have one, you might not quite understand.

In any case, I do think I need to blog more about writing. I think about writing so much that I rarely write about it. I should.

At the same time, if you want to see my work, you can check out the journals I have listed to the right. I love reading a variety of blogs and I especially love reading blogs about the poetic craft.

So I apologize about the dog pictures and nonsense, but I know you sorta like it too.

I am a real poet, I swear. The way I look at it is like this. I need a space where I can be gushy about Telemachus and Edith. This blog helps me keep that sentimentality out of my work. Okay, well once in a while it seeps into my work. But these dogs provide me with so much love and entertainment that I can't keep it all to myself.

Welcome Edith

Some people just aren't dog people. Those people are not very happy with me right now and I don't much care. They say things like, "How can you take care of two dogs? How can you afford it? Telemachus likes being alone. You aren't home as it is. You make irrational decisions."

Here is my reply. Look at my new little baby's face. Dogs are pack animals. I was never home because I worked full time and earned an MFA (one in which I traveled to four universities) in 3 years (Thanks mom for helping out with Telemachus). I'm broke...there will be no more summer long backpacking trips for quite some time. I'm a writer so that means most of my time is spent right here in this very apartment. I am my mother's only child and look how messed up I am. Telemachus needs a sister (hopefully not a girlfriend).

In all seriousness, I know those non-dog people will come around the minute they set eyes on this new beauty. And who wouldn't love a dog named after Edith Piaf? I should train her in French. The only problem is that though I spent some time in France a few summers ago, I can only say things "I would like some red wine. I would like some white wine. I will have the special of the day. Thank you."

As for Telemachus, he is not quite sure about Edith yet. I only pulled the above picture off with some bribing. I do have confidence that they will soon be the best of friends. My intent was to rescue a dog...what could be more special? However, most of the dogs at the places I searched were too big for apartment living. Pugs are a bit different from other dogs and as much as I love Pit Bulls, I just didn't think it was right for Telemachus. So now I have two babies who will climb into the bed using the doggy steps and keep me up all night with their snoring. Does life get any better than this?

How do you say goodbye to this face?

Telemachus is watching my every move. He knows I'm leaving. Five weeks and two days is a long time to a human, but what about an animal? I'm hoping the vet is telling me the truth when he says that to a dog, five weeks is no different than two weeks.
I never thought I could love a dog this much and even though I am thrilled to be going back to Ireland, the thought of not waking up to this face breaks my heart.

I know he will have a great time with my mother. I already saw the treats she has hidden in her cupboards. I hope she remembers my lectures on "Loving something doesn't mean you stuff it with food."

It was a normal day...

...until I discovered that a new lady moved in my complex and she has a pug named Bruce. When she asked the name of my pug, I hesitated. It's such a big mess to say "Telemachus." People never say, "That's cute." They say, "What the hell does that mean? Why would you name a dog that? Do you actually call him that?" Anyway, I wanted to make up a new name for Telemachus. I want Bruce to like him and all. Telemachus doesn't have many pug friends. I almost said, "Fred" or "David," but I couldn't lie. Only time will tell if Bruce is allowed to be friends with a hooligan named Telemachus.

When I returned home and checked my email, I found out that New York Quarterly is taking a poem of mine. That has always been a dream magazine of mine. I'm so happy that I don't even care if my neighbors think I'm strange. I mean, who names their dog Bruce, right?

Lazy Sunday

I feel like today's the day

It's a sweet Sunday afternoon. My defense went better than I ever could have fathomed. Thanks to the dream team: Maggie Anderson, Mary Biddinger, and Craig Paulenich. I feel much better having turned in my thesis. I just have to finish my internship and attend two more Dumanis classes.

Right now I am listening to Amanda by Boston. Until today, I had never really thought about this song. It's on a CD somebody made me, but I usually skip it. But today, I think I am going to listen to it a few times. I don't know anyone named Amanda. Maybe my next dog will be named Amanda. Then I can sing the song to her. Or, perhaps I will name her Cecelia. There is no song called Telemachus so I just generally change the words to songs when I sing to him. Telemachus pretty much prefers reggae. I am not sure why, but I must support him in his interests. I added Marley to one of his middle names. His full name is Telemachus Goteborg Neruda Marley Herlihy Sullivan.

Check out a very new poem of mine on Arsenic Lobster Poetry Journal. It's a really hip journal and I am excited to have a poem there.

Well, I have to meet Jay soon so we can work on our real vs. imagined presentation for Tuesday.

What I'm thinking about at 2 am on a Saturday

Debby MacDonald is by far my favorite animal cop. She works for the Michigan Humane Society. She is tough, but passionately compassionate.

I don't watch television much, but when I do, Animal Cops seems to be where my remote control halts. The people who work as cruelty investigators are my heroes.

The only thing I don't quite get is the food aggression test. They feed a dog and then stick a plastic hand near the food to see if the dog is aggressive. The sad thing is that many times when a dog reacts aggressively, they must put it to sleep. I understand, yet I don't. If you put a plastic hand in my food, I'd definitely get aggressive.

I sure pray that my Telemachus never has to past a food aggression test. He would never bite the plastic hand, but he would growl, and the hair on his back would spike straight up. According to the specialists at the Michigan Humane Society, that is food aggression.

Happy Blizzard!

I know I'm pathetic.

Me and My Boy

I decided that I wanted brown hair. This is the first time in my life (except that time many years ago when I had blue hair...oops...and that time I had pink hair) that I have not had blond or semi-blond hair. I don't know yet if I like the change, but it's winter, so who cares. I may need to add some lighter chunks of caramel or dark blond.

My little thug pug

I put a hat on Telemachus today and he just sat there. What was I to do? I had to snap a picture. When I see dogs in clothes I always feel bad for them, but since T was a tiny pup, he has loved to wear clothes. The older I get, the more I become everything I ever made fun of. But, seriously, is there anything cuter than a chubby little pug in a baseball cap?

TELEMACHUS

The above picture is the reason I struggle to complete the things I need to do. Telemachus rolls on my poems and distracts me with his sweet face.

I have crossed over to the blogger's world. It's a rainy Sunday morning, a perfect time for my first rambling. I have lists of tasks to complete: write the IRS a letter explaining they have made a big mistake, give Telemachus a bath because he smells, print out every poem I have so far written for my thesis, complete a load of laundry (I have to use the word complete or I will half-ass the task, leaving soaking clothes in the washer for days), visit my 90 year old grandma (I call her Bubba) and remind her thirty times who I am, grade some papers, and write a poem for Mary's class that includes a car trip, a house, an element, and a literary figure or text. Before I tackle such jobs, I am going to finish watching a very interesting movie a friend let me borrow. It is called The Science of Sleep. Then, I may take a nap myself.