So we've been engaged now for a few months and we've started on making plans and booking things. It seems so daunting at times. We're both pretty organized and pretty efficient about things, but sometimes it feels like there is a never ending list of things left to do.
At least the dress is done. It has a surprising element that even I didn't know I wanted until I tried it on. And my mother. She cried. How could it not be the dress when your mother cries? It seems so cliche but it was true. She didn't cry for any other dress. Just that one.
And here we go. I hope you enjoy this bumpy ride with me.
About Me
- kitty
- In the quiet moments at the end of the day, when so much fills your mind and emotions overload your heart, this is the space where I free those thoughts and let them take over These are the thoughts of love and life, joys and frustrations, things I've learned, and my life's failures. In black and white.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
And so he asked me
Saturday October 3rd, we ran around the city for Nuit Blanche, looking at works of art throughout the city. We had just finished an incredible dinner at the Sultan's Tent for our 2nd anniversary.
Late Sunday morning he put the little blue box with the white ribbon on top of the bed.
And so he asked me.
And I said yes.
Late Sunday morning he put the little blue box with the white ribbon on top of the bed.
And so he asked me.
And I said yes.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
the trouble with sedatives
My dog, Spencer, had surgery yesterday. Poor little guy. He had three suspicious cysts removed from his body. I was told that he would be noodle-like when I got him home. Instead, I got erratic, uneven breathing, eyes rolling backward into his head, and he was completely unresponsive to his favourite words... walkies, cookie, Fenway (his friend next door), Oakville, grandma, grandpa and car. Nothing, not even clapping my hands or lifting him up by the collar could wake him up.
As I held his head on my lap in the backseat of my car on the way to the animal hospital, all I could do was talk to him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. I couldn't lose him, I wouldn't lose him in the backseat of my car.
All of my memories with him came flooding back to me on the 20 minute drive. The day I brought him home from the SPCA. I had gone in to adopt a different dog, saw him, and took him right on the spot instead. I remembered all of the times of disobedience. I remembered all the moments of scolding him for stealing food on the table. I swear, sometimes I think he just licks the top of whatever is on the table so that I would HAVE to give it to him. I remembered all the animal trainers and the two behaviourists that were enlisted to try to make him a friendlier dog (didn't really work). I love him just the way he is, and in the backseat all I could think was, "dear God, please don't take my dog, please don't take my friend."
I carried my limp dog into the animal hospital and the reaction I got was NOT what I was expecting. He bolted for the door and tried to escape. Like a drunkard, he wobbled to and fro, his legs were crossing each other as he tried to push himself through walls and smashed his nose into the door in order to save himself. No. My dog was not going to die. Clearly the animal hospital is Spencer's smelling salt.
It turns out that he is just incredibly sensitive to sedation. The vet wanted him to stay in and recover but seeing as I was told that he was absolutely fine, I opted to take him home for his recovery. I figured if this was the reaction I was getting from what I thought was a dead dog, this was not the place for him to peacefully recover.
He slept in the car all the way home. He slept most of the night. He slept all afternoon today. He now wears a navy blue Gap t-shirt in order to prevent him from scratching the surgical areas. I took pictures...yes, it is humiliating for a dog to wear a t-shirt and I am pretty sure he hates it.
I cried all night. It was such an emotionally draining day. He is my first dog and I just cannot imagine how it would feel to lose him. I know he's not immortal and one day he will have to go, but yesterday was not that day. We get so attached to our pets. They are family to us. They are an integral part of our lives and occupy a deep place in our hearts.
I got a small taste of what it might be like when the day comes for me to have to say goodbye to Spencer. I didn't like it one bit.
I may be covered in fur today, but it is absolutely worth it and I am completely happy.
As I held his head on my lap in the backseat of my car on the way to the animal hospital, all I could do was talk to him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. I couldn't lose him, I wouldn't lose him in the backseat of my car.
All of my memories with him came flooding back to me on the 20 minute drive. The day I brought him home from the SPCA. I had gone in to adopt a different dog, saw him, and took him right on the spot instead. I remembered all of the times of disobedience. I remembered all the moments of scolding him for stealing food on the table. I swear, sometimes I think he just licks the top of whatever is on the table so that I would HAVE to give it to him. I remembered all the animal trainers and the two behaviourists that were enlisted to try to make him a friendlier dog (didn't really work). I love him just the way he is, and in the backseat all I could think was, "dear God, please don't take my dog, please don't take my friend."
I carried my limp dog into the animal hospital and the reaction I got was NOT what I was expecting. He bolted for the door and tried to escape. Like a drunkard, he wobbled to and fro, his legs were crossing each other as he tried to push himself through walls and smashed his nose into the door in order to save himself. No. My dog was not going to die. Clearly the animal hospital is Spencer's smelling salt.
It turns out that he is just incredibly sensitive to sedation. The vet wanted him to stay in and recover but seeing as I was told that he was absolutely fine, I opted to take him home for his recovery. I figured if this was the reaction I was getting from what I thought was a dead dog, this was not the place for him to peacefully recover.
He slept in the car all the way home. He slept most of the night. He slept all afternoon today. He now wears a navy blue Gap t-shirt in order to prevent him from scratching the surgical areas. I took pictures...yes, it is humiliating for a dog to wear a t-shirt and I am pretty sure he hates it.
I cried all night. It was such an emotionally draining day. He is my first dog and I just cannot imagine how it would feel to lose him. I know he's not immortal and one day he will have to go, but yesterday was not that day. We get so attached to our pets. They are family to us. They are an integral part of our lives and occupy a deep place in our hearts.
I got a small taste of what it might be like when the day comes for me to have to say goodbye to Spencer. I didn't like it one bit.
I may be covered in fur today, but it is absolutely worth it and I am completely happy.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Remembering the simple things I love
Lately life seems to be incredibly complicated. Bills, jobs, loves, ghosts of the past, the list seems endless. It is so easy to drown in the quagmire of all that is. In an effort to keep myself afloat, I try to remember the simple things in life that make me smile.
the smell of fresh cut grass
walking my dog
waking up in the morning with my cat purring on my chest
eating a piece of vanilla cake
the way it feels when the person you love squeezes your hand in a crowd of people
laughing so hard that you cry
getting a phone call from a dear friend
eating a piece of delicious cheese
watching a great movie
ordering chinese food with a great friend
feeling the warm sun on my face
hearing the birds singing
crawling into bed after a long day of work, knowing you will be asleep soon
listening to the sound of my nephew's voice
dancing around my house
It is easy to feel like you are drowning. It is harder to remember the things that keep you afloat.
the smell of fresh cut grass
walking my dog
waking up in the morning with my cat purring on my chest
eating a piece of vanilla cake
the way it feels when the person you love squeezes your hand in a crowd of people
laughing so hard that you cry
getting a phone call from a dear friend
eating a piece of delicious cheese
watching a great movie
ordering chinese food with a great friend
feeling the warm sun on my face
hearing the birds singing
crawling into bed after a long day of work, knowing you will be asleep soon
listening to the sound of my nephew's voice
dancing around my house
It is easy to feel like you are drowning. It is harder to remember the things that keep you afloat.
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