On the Sacrifices, Irritations, and Paradigm Shifts Our New Life Now Affords Us

June 5, 2007

Truth be told it is nicer in Princeton than I was expecting. Yes, our apartment is smaller, yes the whole complex looks as though it is falling down and is plagued by mold, yes we live in state that can possess a smell humans should not know, but our apartment has some character, the weather is lovely, and we have a new dog companion who keeps me endlessly entertained by following my husband everywhere he goes, while my husband in turn follows the dog everywhere she goes (to make sure she goes nowhere near his computer, or his bed, or his food in the kitchen) so that occasionally the two of them walk in circles around the kitchen, living room, dining room trying to keep track of the other while I laugh behind my hand so as not to alert them to their circuitous pursuits and continue to watch my movies (it is vacation after all).

Yet, despite my grudging concession that it could be worse, there are some strange sacrifices, annoying irritations, and alarming paradigm shifts I feel obliged to tell you about.

First is the issue of the dog and the bathroom. Not our bathroom, but the fact that she goes to the bathroom. While I love dogs, I have never been a big fan of the pick up after you dog rule. Granted I don’t want to step in it and I don’t want it polluting my water supplies or stinking up my neighborhoods, but nor do I really want to bend over and pick it up with a thin plastic bag, that could quite conceivably have holes and in no ways mitigates or blocks the smell of the offending feces. But, our dog is having some issues going to the bathroom, as in, she doesn’t. Hardly ever. The girl can hold it for longer than I physically think is possible. And when she lets go – it’s like flood gates bursting forth – it is something to behold. At any rate, her reticence leads us to a strange new world in which when she goes to the bathroom (outside) we jump up and down and cheer and pat her back and generally make a fuss. It’s strange enough when it’s just the two of us and no one else is out. It is another thing entirely when it is just me and the dog and the security guard in the car at the curb having a good laugh at my hysterics and the dog’s bewildered expression. A whole new world.

Second, Route One. This has become the new curse word and threat in my life. You would think after living in Atlanta for three years no amount of traffic or traffic-based situation would phase me. But I tell you Atlanta traffic has nothing on Route One. Words fail me to describe what a terror this road is where people exit and enter in the same lane at the same time and all turns must be made from the right and you must know exactly where the store you are looking for is before you see it because the exit for it precedes your ability to see the store itself so that if you are new to the area you find yourself driving past the store you want, having missed the exit, needing to make the U-turn, from the right, turn around go the other way, make another U-turn (again from the right) and try the whole thing over again. God forbid you miss it twice. Meanwhile, every bloody thing you need is either in downtown Princeton where traffic doesn’t move for all the pedestrians in the road and parking doesn’t exist, or it is on Route one. It is a very scary, irritating, life I lead at the moment.

And finally, on my inability to take a shower with any sense of security. As our dog is new, we are naturally exploring some boundary issues. It looks like this: Sadie jumps up on the couch, I yell no, and pull her off, Sadie sulks in the corner. Sadie goes into the bedroom, she doesn’t emerge after a few seconds, I heave my lazy butt off the couch and check on her, she’s jumped up on the bed, I yell no and pull her off. Sadie goes into the kitchen, she doesn’t emerge from the other side, one of us puts down our dinner and goes to check, Sadie has jumped up and is eating our food of the counter, we yell no and pull her down, she sulks. And so on and so forth. She does bite or growl at us when we correct her, but she does try to eat the curtains and the plants, and the rug, and our dinner and sleep on our bed and lie on our couch and generally do all the things we like to do (minus the eating of the curtains and the plants). Our solution is to watch her and crate her when we go out during the day and when we go to sleep at night. Naturally, however, she is not yet fond of the crate as it means not only restricted access to all things pleasurable, but that we are leaving the general vicinity and our return time has not been cleared with her. Therefore, when we return from our morning walks and I need to shower and Adam is gone at work, I tend not to crate her. I can shower faster than it would take to push, pull, and cajole her into her crate (even with the gourmet treats we have on hand to help with persuasion techniques). So, I leave the bathroom door open and the bedroom door close and shower like I will get a medal for finishing in under five minutes. It is amazingly stressful as every noise (even the ones from next store) sound like a dog pulling down a bookshelf with her teeth and systematically eating every good book I own.

Clearly my life is already a full time endeavor and I should not have to start work next week on top of the trials and tribulations I am already dealing with.

Posted in life by Sarah