BEST DATE EVER no number necessary because this was one of a kind

  The funny thing is that this was a set up by my ex-friend Dot.  Quite a number of years before our fallout. No person is just one dimensional.  There are the good parts and the bad. Sometimes we can see the imbalance and the good is heavier and accounts for more. And then the scales can change.
 If we can only see one or the other,  we may have a problem.  There is a psychological term for it. It's called splitting. It's as if you can't integrate the both parts into one person, so you see them either all good or all bad. Infatuation does this. When it wears off, you should have a balanced view. If you don't, you and/or your partner will have a rocky road. And not of the Baskin Robbins variety.


BACK TO THE STORY WHICH I DIDN'T ACTUALLY BEGIN YET.

 I think I was around 24. I was living in a studio apartment in Park Slope, Brooklyn. I was working for a dress manufacturer. Dot had given my number to a guy named Fred who lived in my neighborhood.  He was some type of salesman so he traveled around the country frequently. That made getting together a challenge.




I had spoken to him on the phone once and we had a nice conversation but that was it. Okay. That's the way it goes. No big loss. It was nice of Dot to think of me.

This happened a long time back. Maybe a dozen or so years before we had our falling out. We had actually been close. And my mom was too.  Dot had worked with my mom for a year of so when she was out of high school. At 17 she made friends with my mom. Looking at it today, it may have been a sort of replacement of my sister. And Dot's mom was old and Dot being the youngest was saddled with her when her dad died. Families. Families. They make us and break us.


Dot was Italian and had a big family, although they were scattered here and there. Over the years we got to know most of them When there was room at the table, she would invite me and my mom for Christmas dinner and it was always a festive, happy, food and wine fueled occasion.

The year I'm remembering, obviously, we got the call. This is where my memory blurs, but I don't think it will really matter.

I picked up my mom and we drove to Bay Ridge. We were lucky and found a parking spot not too far away. We walked to the building and were greeted in the small apartment by Dot, her mom, a niece or nephew or two. I don't think she had been married and divorced with her baby yet, but if she were, it wouldn't make a difference in the tale.
 She was the baby of her family so her siblings kids were closer to her age than her sibs were to her. That's a reason I can't remember who was who.(at least not now. Then, I knew)  It was warm and crowded and I remember that nice feeling of family. We started drinking and nibbling the antipasto and chatting around.

Some time later, another person showed up. His was introduced as  Renaldo and he was Italian. Short, dark and handsome. And tres chic. I asked Dot what his story was and he was visiting the family bla bla bla. Okay. That's nice.

Renaldo and I  spent most of the evening drinking, eating and chatting. He had a wonderful accent and I was able to understand him, no problem. We got a long really well. Of course we did. He didn't live in America, so why wouldn't we?

It got late, so my mom and I left. I'm sure I would have liked to stay, but what was the point? When we did go out the door, Renaldo kissed my hand. I know. Totally cliché, but at 24, it was quite nice.(at 66 it'd still be nice, maybe. now I'm not so sure. humbug!) He had taken my number but what good would it do? Remember, we girls wanted relationships not one night stands. Or anything long distance.

Hell, back then if you met a person in Manhattan, and you lived in Brooklyn and he lived in Queens, you were considered GU..  Geographically Undesirable.  Ha on all you young people who think you invented initials.

After a few days, I got a call from Renaldo. I'm happy, but sad. We're talking and he suddenly starts to laugh. Big laughing. At what, I am clueless. Suddenly he blurts out, "it's me, Fred".  No accent. Shock. I'm trying to grasp what's going on. I actually had to ask because I was so flummoxed.


He told me that he and Dot decided that we should meet, but not on a blind date. Instead. since he was good with accents, he'd meet me under false pretenses and see if we clicked. It really was clever.

You may have put it together because if I didn't mention Fred before, it'd be like watching a mystery show and the perp is not someone they've shown or mentioned and you're like, "where the fuck did this come from?  How could they do that?"  I would be especially pissed because I want to figure it out.

Fred, was actually an Egyptian Jew, which may have been one of the reasons he was quite good with accents. I think he spoke three languages.
We dated for a while, but as for why we stopped seeing each other, I have no recollection. I probably wasn't ready for a relationship even though I thought I was.
I certainly wasn't ready for the good ones yet.

THEORY

Why is it bad to have expectations?  Because you create a mindset and set yourself up for disappointment.
Should you have expectations?  Yes, but keep them reasonable and realistic.
But never, ever give up. There's always hope.

ELECTIONS AND VOTING JUST ONE MORE THING

I think that says it all.

FREEDOM TO CHOOSE "BLESSING OR CURSE or IS CHOOSING A DOG HARDER THAN CHOOSING A PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE? DECISIONS ARE HARD. YOU MAKE ONE, BUT WHAT IF IT SUCKS?

This was never meant to be a political post. And it wasn't. I mean choosing a dog is a very personal decision. And, you don't need a primary or caucuses to get to a place where you have a few possible candidates to either buy or adopt.

Actually, it is sounding like the same thing the more I think about it. Shit. Why can't anything be easy?

I absolutely believe in freedom to choose. Pretty much, everything we really do is our own choice. Even if it's not to make a choice.

My problem is when there are too many choices and I get overwhelmed.
I was not overwhelmed in my choices of who to marry. I guess I'm really, really grateful for that. My high school grades weren't that good, so I didn't have many choices of where to go to college. That too is another tale which will be told by the idiot who made those poor choices back then, but not now.

You usually are constrained by some factors when choosing. Some are financial. Money always plays into your choice, like can you afford to do or buy what you think you want? Time. Have you got a time frame, or one  you must meet? Like you'll be homeless if you don't find a house or an apartment? Or your eggs will slowly decay and that's not a nice thought.

Preferences are big. What is your taste? What do you like? Do you know why you like it?

Chloe helping dad

In my case, physical issues come to play. Allergies, infirmities, age, all play a role in the decision process.

the dog I didn't get

Also, if you are anything like me, you've been told that you think too much. Like that's a BAD thing.

I am now back. You didn't even know I was gone. 14 hours later. I've lost the flow.
The day really sucked, but, sometimes it does.

So, back to choice. I want a dog. I want the love, the companionship, the fluff, the special bond. I don't want to have to walk it in the rain, clean it's butt (non-allergic dogs are generally white), clean up when it has accidents. Take it to the vet when it's sick and then, lose it. Although, if I were to get a puppy there is a chance it could outlive me. Then what?  That's how we got our Benny. His very old master died and no one in the family wanted him.

Benny at Christmas

And of course, my husband. He wants to wait and not get a dog as small as Chloe. Maybe bigger than Benny. But my allergies, and my heart. That's what I want. I think.

We were very lucky. Chloe was not at all yappy. She was really well house trained. She was a bit aloof and so in ways she was like a cat.
Benny only yelped if you hurt him. Otherwise, no peep. He either couldn't or wouldn't bark.

What if we get a yapper? Or a bad personality? I always said I was lucky with Chloe. I couldn't claim responsibility for her good temper. Just that I hadn't ruined it.

And now for the politics. It might be simpler if we did a Westminster Dog Show for the candidates.  Have someone put each one on a leash and walk then around the ring with the announcer talking about their breeding, pedigrees and so forth. I'd especially like to see when they get lifted on the table by their balls. Hillary would have a one up on that at least.

I mean, really. Where did these candidates come from?  Did they fall out of the sky? Land on their heads? I have lived through many elections where I felt it was the lesser of two evils. But now, it is likely to be the lesser of two weasels.

I like Hilary. Don't crucify me. I'm a woman. I'm practical. I believe that anyone who has made it anywhere it the political arena is a liar and a cheat. I think it's a joke that each one calls the other one names and gets offended when it gets hurled back.

So, a puppy or a rescue? It has to be a rescue, but do I have patience to deal with whatever issues it will have? Probably.

Can't we pick a rescue for President? Someone who's been misused and would appreciate the love and support they'd never known.?

I know. I'm being ridiculous. Oh yeah. That's my name. No matter.

THEORY:
   When people are given too few or too many options, they cannot make a choice.
   This is because people are easily overwhelmed. We were not created to make these kinds of decisions. Survival meant knowing what was edible and what was not. Who was friendly and who was not. One mistake and you learned what the proper choice was.
   I again cite human evolution being far behind the evolution of man. We are going to think ourselves out of existence. Unless, of course, I'm thinking about things in the wrong way.

 

THAT'S ALL FOLKS

FREEDOM TO CHOOSE: A BLESSING OR A CURSE. I JUST HAD A WEIRD DEJA VU. AND NOT BECAUSE IT'S PART 3. GAVE ME THE CHILLS.

I know I have to get to this part. It's why I started this post in the first place. Should we get a dog now, later or never?

 

 

I returned from the Florida trip a very upset woman. Then, my car kept dying and I sold it and decided to lease. After what I had been through I was going to treat myself. A Honda Accord EX with most of what I wanted. And get it, I did.

I was so excited when I picked it up. I stopped by my friend's house and took them for a spin.  Then I went home.

I got up the next morning to get an alarm put in. I know, nice irony there. I walked down the block looking for my car. I thought I'd lost my mind.

I went home. Told myself, no, I parked it up towards Bell Blvd. and went back again to look. I went all the way to the corner and back. No car. No broken glass. No nothing. I ran back and forth for a while before I could let the reality set in.

 

I called the police and insurance company and did what I had to do. The men at the Honda dealer laughed when they saw me come in the next day. Just like they laughed when they saw me pick it up with the "Club", the anti-theft device.

I no longer cared what I leased. So I got a Civic. Plain and serviceable. Again, was there some irony in that? Was it Dot's plan that I should have a Civic?

HERE SHE IS IN HER CORNER.

I was bereft. I didn't know what to do. Labor day week end was upon us and I'd be going back to work. I was driving a rental until my car came in and I thought, "I should get a dog. Just like Muffin."

I knew nothing of breeders or puppy mills back then, so I called a store in Flushing and asked if they had any Malts. They did, and I drove right over.

 

There were three little balls of fur in the pen. Two boys and a girl. I knew in my heart I wanted a girl. I had no children, had had a sister and thought it would be better for me.

They picked up each separately and put them into my arms. The boys were both full of fire. Then, came the girl. She lay on my chest and looked at me. I thought she'd be dull, but I wanted what I wanted so I adopted (bought) her.

I remember the drive home. She was lying on a pile of newspaper on the floor of the passenger side, looking terrified. I couldn't believe I'd done it.

I set her up in the little bathroom and put out wee wee pads and set up the crate and her food. She was still shell shocked.

That lasted for two days.

After that I had my hands full, and I had to go back to work.

 

 

 

eating one of my shoes which she could almost fit in.

When I put her in her crate, I felt like a jailor. I put it in the bedroom, but she moaned and I caved. Her name was Chloe. My two Goddaughters helped me choose it. Perfect.
I read books. I thought if I put her on my bed, she would not pee or poop on it as it was her space. I wasn't wrong about that. However, she'd only stay on at night when I was in bed. And, she apparently liked to eat hair. Mine. Or nibble on my fingers and toes. With those tiny baby teeth with the other set waiting to come out.

 OUCH!

 

Those first few months were a nightmare. I slept completely under the covers or she'd bite me anywhere that she could.

She was not easily trained. She would stand on the wee wee pad with her front paws, and pee on the floor in back of it.

I remember wondering about giving her up. Then I thought about people who adopted kids. You can't give them back. Well, not usually and that too is another story I know but won't tell.

I decided I wasn't a quitter and I'd just have to keep at it.

miss thing up north in Great Neck.

On top of this, my neighbor had moved because her apartment, the same as mine, had been burglarized. I had put in for an apartment in Great Neck that was rent stabilized, but hard to get into. Except that the woman who owned it all was a pet lover. She would give priority to people who had a pet whose landlord was not letting them stay. So, I kind of fudged that part. But she was the reason I got the great apartment in Great Neck.

 

Packing and training her at the same time was awful. One time I didn't know what to do with her, so I had her on a leash and put the handle under the coffee table so I could pack. While I sat there, I thank God noticed that she'd spun around and was choking on the leash. I panicked and tried to unclip her lead, but realized all I had to do was pick up the table and she was free. Off she went.

 

I had hundreds of boxes and put them across the living room so she couldn't go in and poop or pee on the rug. I wanted my deposit back.

I came home from work and she had disappeared. I was frantic. I looked everywhere and then I heard a yelp. From the living room. She had nosed aside some boxes and gotten in, but couldn't get out.

By the time we moved we'd made progress with her training. Although I had to go walk up and down three flights of stairs every time I had to take her out.

I'll tell one more story of how we finally bonded. Even though it's a bit gross which is one of my reservations about getting another dog.

 

Chloe and Honey. My fearless baby.

 

It was Christmas and I had up a small tree. I came home and she wasn't her peppy self. (peppi was one of her nicknames). I couldn't figure what it was, but I knew something was wrong. She looked uncomfortable. I noticed something shiny by her butt. Yes. My girl had ingested a long strand of tinsel.

the red was supposed to be a cross. she was a nurse for Halloween.

So I did what any loving parent would do. I put her on the bed, and very slowly and carefully extracted it. I could see the relief in her eyes when I was done. We locked eyes and she paired me with the relief. And that was it. She was truly my baby.

 

My husband fell in love with her too, although men and little floofie dogs don't match.

 

We had her until she was nearly 17 years old. She in some way, even made her death easy for me. I wasn't really given the decision to put her down.  She went out at 5 am. She was taking too long to come in from the lanai so I went out and she was at the end of the pool.

I grabbed her and brought her in screaming. We thought she was gone, but I found a pulse. We raced her to the emergency room, but the doctors told us she had too much fluid in her lungs and the best we could hope for would be her suffering for a few days. So we did what had to be done.  That was probably 8 years ago and I can still cry. Well, you who understand will understand.

 

Benny lying between two of his beds.

I have a lot of photos of her, but not scanned in. I'll just find some of the ones I have and post them as a memorial. And tell you. I still have no answer.

It took us two years to adopt a rescue. A ten year old poodle named Benny Boo Boo. We had him for nearly four years. He took was a precious little bite of love.

He had one tooth, was going deaf and blind and then got dementia. But he was still a bundle of love.

We had to let him go two years ago at Christmas. My husband's mom was dying in NY and we had to go back and he should have been put down but we couldn't. There again, our hands were forced. And again I'm crying.

 

And these are all the pros for having a dog. Well, maybe not the dying part. That really sucks.

 

Benny and his friend Tigey.