My Social Media

Me vene quase 'na malincunia

Man the harpoons!

I like to pretend I'm a solitary sort of person and enjoy spending time alone hanging out with Bella and my anti-social cat, Luka. In recent months I have rekindled some neighborhood friendships - more kindled than re yet still, I'm actually speaking to humans that live nearby, (I rarely spoke to them when I was fatter, living behind my girth-fence) - my neighbor Kaffy (& her husband Mike) come to mind. We have a friendship (almost). A woman and her husband who live at the last Willows resort - her name is AnnMarie, and I like him because he laughs at everything I say and what's not to like about laughter? The reason I can remember her name is because when she first introduced herself to me, I thought, Oh, THAT Girl! (get it?) Her name stuck. She usually takes her walk near twilight so that 


while I'm driving home some nights, I nearly ram her "bumper" with my bumper because it's impossible to see her in the dusky forest light (sounds so romantic, huh). Hopefully I'll stay on her good side which is another way of saying the opposite side of the road and we can continue our chatting when we meet on walks.

A young couple I talk to occasionally, a woman & her husband, Robert and their dog who's a cheee-who-a--who-a mix of some sort are turning into frequent visitors. Their dog is trained to understand Spanish commands only. "Donde esta Bella?" he barks. Their dog walks with his head smack under Bella's butt - he fits in that space as if he were the car made for that garage - there must be a Spanish command;  Bella's butt as Mr. Minidog's sombrero. The woman's name escapes me -- Victoria, Vanessa, Vagyna. I can't recall though she's very nice as is her husband though he does not speak much except to his dog. (It must be their little secret - the "garage" parking command.) We've walked our dogs together. One day they took Bella on some sort of provocative dog walk without me - I guess they didn't want me to witness the shenigans so I stayed home, using my time alone wisely by vacuuming up dog hair, worried that I'd never see my dog once they reached the border.

It's all I can do to remember these people's names (these folks that walk my dog yet know her butt intimately). I think it's because I have early onset age. Yet I'm becoming more social with my surrounding community through my dog. Maybe I can blame part of the challenge of remembering on chemo-brain though it's been 4 years since I had chemo and most of my brain is still slightly functional around. Had I not had chemo, would my brain be the same or better, more brainy or would it have changed as drastically as it seems to change (even though I can't remember if it's really changed or not) or does it matter because the point is moot. The damage is either done or not done. I haven't a clue.

There was a birthday party held at my house over the weekend. There were (too many) people there (for my taste) so I had to physically get away from the house which meant I had to be sober. I tried phoning my neighbor Kaffy but she must have used caller id and refused to pick up when she saw who was calling. I tried my sister who's phone went straight to voicemail - she must have been forewarned; a premonition.

So Bella and I took off for the beach by ourselves. We hiked the stairs down to the sand, passing the chronic exercisers, people who use the stairs for their health only rather than as the cheap free-way to the beach. When I was much heavier, you would have never caught me on these stairs, down or up. I would have died walking them. 

While on our way down the stairs some people remarked of Bella's cuteness. Some folks shy away though many women (and children) seem to take to her immediately. They ask if they can pet her. They ask me questions about her age. Some of these folks have dogs with them though many do not - yet they still want to talk and the talk isn't always about the dog. One lady asked me where I got my shirt saying she thought it was cute. She even looked at the label (maybe she was checking my size.) People are forward at times. I let this stranger read my shirt label (behind my back!)

It continues to amaze me how having this dog around has increased my sociability. Yet if you asked me a simple question about my hobbies or how I spend my time, I have to really think about what I do (other than dog doo). I walk my dog. I look at my vacuum collecting dust as it sits. I read. I am cleaning up the forest or at least my part of it while I'm living in it. By "cleaning" I mean, pulling out that damn scotch broom and those damn thistles. Last night I was heaving branches off the trail. It's fun and productive. It's exercise. I can do this work while Bella sniffs for deer poop pellets and waits somewhat patiently for me to heave a stick in her direction that she can chase until she sniffs some other wild forest animal poop.

At the beach two women using the stairs wanted to pet Bella. "Is that a corgi?"one asked while the other talked about how dogs extend your life though "being unemployed does not extend your life!" She volunteered that she had been unemployed now for over two years, owned two dogs and no one would rent a house to her with those two dogs. I heard her life story in less than five minutes. I gave her an idea for employment - how to make money by doing other people's laundry even though it's an idea I borrowed from my son's entrepreneurial-minded girlfriend.

Further down the beach I spoke to another woman who said she just got a chocolate (See's!?) lab. Her family had promoted the purchase. She mentioned that she is 70 years old though upon first glance I could have sworn we were the same age. I tried to get her excited about her puppy, show some encouragement. "Dogs add years to your life," I said, "it's a well known fact." She said "That may be but I'm not sure I want to live longer," adding that she had enough things to do without adding a dog to her daily list of commitments. We said our goodbyes. "Have a great rest of the day!"

In many ways, Bella has opened doors socially (or I've allowed her to open the doors or I've allowed myself to notice the doors were open) yet at the same time, some doors have closed. Doors have closed to casual things, to spontaneity, walking into grocery stores, a fruit stand, the farmer's market and restaurants (unless they offer outdoor seating) are off limits. They don't let you bring your dog into a store though some of the folks in the grocery store are easily as questionable as some dogs I've seen. A weekend get-away has to be planned in advance. It's expensive to put a dog at the kennel/boarder though I suppose there's a slight chance she could stay with Pepito, the chihuahua and his "parents."

Bella blurred

I'm trying to learn what things bring the most joy - the biggest bang for my buck. Am I happier walking my dog down the stairs at the beach to reach the sand and sea or would I rather be perusing the grocery aisles reading nutrition labels? Is it more important to walk, stopping for a chat with a stranger, watching shorebirds chased by crashing waves, and after one of the longest, wettest winters I can remember (if I  remember correctly), enjoying the warmth of the sun or buy a grocery item that I'm not going to remember I ate an hour later?