Tuesday, April 12, 2016


The universe has a funny way of throwing things in your path that you have previously convinced yourself you don't want, need, or care about.

For instance, I had decided, way back when I adopted Tess and Percy, that I did not want more than one cat.  One cat is fine.  More than one cat just causes issues like litter box aversion.

Somehow I now have three cats.  I'm still not sure how that happened, and yes, one of the cats does engage in litter box aversion.  And yet, I stubbornly hang on to her, modifying my life and daily rituals in order to keep her from peeing on the floor, just because I can't imagine my life without her.  When I first got Tess and Percy, I couldn't imagine my life with her and no, absolutely under no circumstances would I consider adopting another cat!

So I adopted two more.

I have also had the same opinion about relationships the last few months, deciding that I neither want nor need one, they are more trouble than they are worth, and they are way too much work.  I can bury my sex drive.  I don't need this shit in my life. 

That was until I realized I still have a sex drive, so of course I did everything I could to force that down and run screaming for my life away from the person who had the nerve to spark it.  Those damn hormones.  They'll get to you every time.

For years now I've been saying one dog is enough.  After my disastrous trial with Harley, the hound from hell that tried to rip Tess' throat out, I decided that I would never again attempt to own two dogs.  Two dogs are just too much work and I already have three cats that are too much work.  Tess is so well-trained, so easygoing, and so settled in a routine that I would never want to add another dog that would come in and teach her all sorts of bad habits.

Then while surfing Petfinder.com I came across Zack, a beautiful long-haired male German shepherd who was eight years old and had the same look on his face that Puckett had when she coerced me into adopting her.  I looked at his profile for a couple of days and finally decided to contact the rescue about him.  I figured the lady in charge would tell me she didn't adopt out that far away (three hours), or he was already spoken for, or he had a list of people waiting to meet him and she'd get back to me.  Instead she gave me some background on Zack and sent me an application.  Frankly, he sounded perfect.  He was close to Tess' age with an extremely quiet temperament.  He'd been neglected as a younger dog and then fell in the hands of a pet hoarder where no one really paid much attention to him.  No vaccinations, he wasn't fixed.  The neighbors eventually found him in the road and brought him to the rescue where he was vetted, fixed, and put in foster care until a forever home could be found.  I asked the lady if he was housebroken, if he was a barker, if he was aggressive or dominant, and she said he was extremely laid back, would do well with another dog, and Tess sounded particularly good for him because Zack was definitely not alpha.  He didn't bark. He was housetrained and could do a few tricks, and most of all he just needed a quiet loving home where he could live out the rest of his life in peace.

I thought he sounded great.  He and Tess could be two old fogies living out there retirement together.  I think Tess is getting kind of lonely, so this might be good for her.  The woman from the rescue sounded enthusiastic as well.  She seemed to be willing to consider adopting him out to me.  She said my application checked out and that Tess sounded perfect for Zack.  I sent an email to her saying that I would love to meet him and...crickets.

I felt like I was online dating again.  Suggest meeting and they disappear never to be heard from again.  Maybe I felt like I was just dating in general again.  Things get too serious and they disappear.  My Texas best friend and I used to joke that our ex-boyfriends joined the army and were on special secret black ops missions so they couldn't contact us anymore or even answer messages.  I believe in today's culture now this is called "ghosting." I am very familiar with "ghosting" and I do not like it.

My Texas friend has been married nine years and no longer needs to worry about this.

I waited several days and finally emailed the lady again, letting her know I was just following up on Zack.  She emailed me back immediately and said he was getting picked up by a family the next day and hopefully this will be his forever home.

Well, thanks for telling me.  Again I felt like I was dating.  Seriously, how hard is it to email someone and say, thanks but no thanks, or you are number two or three on the list and we'll call you if something changes?  I have heard the word "no" many, many times.  It will not devastate me.  I will not go crazy on someone and start threatening to key their cars.  This goes for men too.  If one is no longer interested in seeing me, even a simple text of "Buzz off, I don't want to see you anymore" is better than just disappearing without a trace.  I am a writer.  I handle rejection very well.  I've been dumped by plenty of men. (See? This is why I'm done with relationships).   I've been rejected by all the jobs I've interviewed for in the past few months. I think my favorite rejection was from Durango.  They said, "We've decided to pursue one of our other options."  I appreciated them telling me that, but I still thought, "Wow, that's what all my boyfriends say when they break up with me."

Not really, since most of my boyfriends have just pulled that ghosting shit.

Hey, when I'm told to buzz off, I buzz off.  I'm not going to hang around bothering someone who clearly has no interest in being around me anymore.

All I ask is to please have the courtesy to tell the rejectee that you are rejecting them.  It really isn't that hard.  I remember when breaking up with someone over the phone was considered bad form and now I'm actually happy with at least a text or email that says "Get lost." When I called about adopting Tess all those years ago they told me upfront that she was probably already spoken for but they would call me if something changed and the original adoption fell through.  They called me the next day, and I appreciated that they basically told me not to get my hopes up. 

This is why I don't date anymore.  And I refuse to admit that I still have a sex drive.  And I definitely do not need another dog!  I'm still a glutton for punishment because I can't stop writing and sharing it with the world which guarantees rejection.

I was right the first time and the universe can go hang itself.

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