both, as in, sick, and the weather. the temperature. there is a traveler talking loudly on the phone. it’s annoying as shit, and i have headphones on. go outside, or learn to use an indoor voice, jackass.

someone was passed out in the bathroom stall, or dead. i think i heard a few sounds out of them. i didn’t want to disturb their sleep.

the end of the year emotional rollercoaster continues. walking all over town is grueling. no it isn’t. having your heart ripped out is grueling. ok. it is.

on the evening of the first, i encountered, hanging out amongst the travelers of decatur, the cutest critter i have seen in at least three days. lol. i had given away a hoodie, and wandered away from a rather crass rant about female body processes by a male, visited my dumpster rat friends, and found some food, which i ate. i returned to see an ambulance taking someone away. there had been word of someone having a seizure. i returned to the group to find a tiny pit puppy sitting on one of the packs. this was grenadine. i moved in. lol. people don’t tend to have inclination to care for others’ pets, especially babies, and it was getting colder. it’s difficult to sleep on a cold sidewalk. i scritched her behind the ears, and she soon asked to come on my lap. i found a chair, she napped. they left. i didn’t pursue, but they’d already said that they were leaving in the morning. i decided to keep her company for the night. we walked back to where the van was parked. i didn’t knock. i mostly held her. people stopped and asked, and i explained the best i could. i had been planning to get leftover food from my favorite pizza place as they closed, and the timing was alright. by this point, she was in my hoodie, on my arm, little budda belly made of napping angel.

cutest dumpster diving assistant ever

cutest dumpster diving assistant ever

she was in a good mood, having slept and being warm. she communicated well. the dumpster was empty, or i wasn’t willing to take more time away from grenadine. one of the employees found us a chicken wrap and a pepperoni wrap. still warm. we went to the park, got some water, and split the chicken wrap under a streetlight. the parts she dropped on the sidewalk, i ate. she didn’t drop any more. we continued on.

when she whined, i let her walk, or scritched her head. i know, kiddo. it’s only a few more blocks. we ran across the wednesday night foursquare game. more attention for little. cooing. i don’t know if the shared affection from other people is as good as the solo affection from the little one herself, but i was madly, madly in love with this tiny little dog. it’s doesn’t take long. it started to rain. i got the umbrella out and we continued on.

she could sense when we were getting close, and was intrigued by erv as i opened the door. yes, the extra-sensory-communication that was going on was that vivid. she was intrigued. inside, i gave her more water, and prepped for bed. even inside, it was too cold for her to sleep alone. ok, so when it’s cold and i have a cat-sized puppy, i put her on my chest, as i slept on my back. she knawed on my beard, then nuzzled underneath my neck.

car noises woke us up a few times, as they typically do when you sleep in an aluminum can on a city street. it stopped raining, and warmed up quickly. she flopped into adorable positions, but kept me from removing her jacket by straightening her front legs. yes, miss lady, it stays right there.

she overheated. i’m used to sleeping alone, and living mostly out of doors. i stay warm enough for me. she got impatient & started chewing on things. i got a two towels, made her a bed at my feet with the bath towel, and knotted the kitchen towel to make her a quick chew toy. she immediately understood, and was satisfied, if not a little sad, or disappointed. she curled up and went back to sleep. i kept checking on her. it started raining again, and the temperature dropped quickly. another loud vehicle went by, and i sat up to see her, sitting on the edge of the towel, asking to rejoin me. yes, of course, little. i scooped her up, and she returned to my chest for the evening. puppy kisses make for sweet dreams.

early morning, relatively speaking. more attention outside, and it was sunny and much warmer, a beautiful day. we alternated walking near one another and cradling/riding in my arms. she got impatient in the stall where i pooped, squeaking cutely, piercingly. i’m sorry baby dog, i’m doing the best i can. i considered heading immediately back to where she had lost her mama, but we hadn’t eaten, and it was a very long walk for such little legs. in the sun, erv had warmed up nicely. i fashioned another blanket into a bed on the couch, and she napped. i massaged her and did reiki, which she greatly appreciated. she let me remove her coat. she napped, and i cried, then ate, and then cleaned the kitchen for the first time in weeks, while designing a suitable puppy-baby-carrier.

napping angel

napping angel

i woke her with half of the can of dog food a friend had purchased for us the night before. she finished it, happily. she liked just sitting on my lap. i liked that, too.

i emptied, then lined my messenger bag with a fleece blanket. she didn’t want her jacket on, and was getting anxious. i set her inside, and we set out again. the first time i set her in it, she was a little confused. she asked to get down a few times, and we both adjusted to the sling. tiny little legs, lots of interesting things to smell along the sidewalk, and the pace was sporadic. i tended to let her walk on grassy areas, or relatively clean sidewalks. i also showed her some of the places i had been, or where i might be if she wanted to find me again. she was like, LOOK ASSHOLE JUST TAKE ME BACK TO MY MOMMY. and barked, and three neighbor dogs answered. she has a good park. sharp, peircing, beautiful bark. good pupy.

she started to get a little wild as i stepped off the curb. she did a chin-plant, and re-joined me along the direct path to mom. we met friends in the park. she recognized other dogs. i let her walk across the grass, and she didn’t want to put her jacket on yet. then, she didn’t want to leave. MOM WILL BE BACK HERE, WE CAN WAIT HERE. i know, little. if we don’t meet anyone else, we can come back here, but for now, we have to go this way. back into the carrier, and back to the spot we met.

more attention, more repetition of the story. her owner went to the hospital last night and i’m taking care of her until they can be reunited. one very friendly woman touched me nearly as much as grenadine. grenadine gave me a big ol kiss to express her approval of my care. these streets are a different place in daylight. hints of the life that exists at night. sitting directly in front of where the ambulance had taken her owner was a mutual friend. he said, “i was told to snatch that dog if i saw it” “ok.” he had known her owner as long as he’d known me, but i may as well have been a stranger by his tone. i like relationships where you don’t know someone’s name until five or six hugs in. someone had gifted him the tao te ching, which he would drop on the sidewalk, and ask anyone who reacted to it to read at random. i had read chapter 41 most recently, a block or two from that very spot. he gently, but briskly removed her from the carrier, and put her jacket back on. she looked momentarily stressed, but quickly realized this was the path to momma. he expressed frustration at having to care for her, to which i offered to continue watching her. unneeded. i continued on.

the phrase “daddy mode stop” kept echoing through my head, but it wouldn’t. temporal adoptions are difficult at the disconnect. who am i kidding, they’re pure bliss, every moment. thanks for your time, kiddo. i hope we meet again some day.

~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2014-01-6 (Monday).

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