Hot Diggety Dog

Because I work in the field of Mental Health, I find myself assigning a diagnosis or 2 to family members, friends, and characters in books or on the screen. This practice of mine has now spread like an infection to giving a clinical diagnosis to the animals in my life.

Take Polly, for example. She does not belong to me, per se, but she joins us on many a walk. Spend just one minute with her and, you too, will soon discover that this dog is one big case of ADHD. Hop this canine up on some Mt. Dew and she would expend more energy than the Earth spinning on it axis much like Hammy, the nutty chipmunk, in Over the Hedge.

Polly has a human counterpart in Robin Williams as well.








Both have annoyingly spastic energy with a douse of comedic timing. We refer to Polly as a little comedian as she constantly makes us laugh.

One would wrongly assume a lengthy walk would tire Polly out. Instead, it revs her up. She bounds in the house ready to play some more. Like the Energizer Bunny, she keeps going and going and going and . . . .

Polly's diagnosis: ADHD (with an emphasis on the H)
Mania (or excessive happiness a la Robin Williams
in Patch Adams)
Rule out Psychosis

Then we have Tiki. Her human recipe is one gallon Marcia Brady, add one Tablespoon of Cindy Brady, plus a Splash of Gladys Kravitz from Bewitched. Blend well.
PLUS
PLUS





EQUALS


Tiki is cute, adorable and innocent. Think of Cindy Brady asking "Thanta" Clause to help her mommy get her voice back so she can "thing" at "Christhmuth". How cute was that?

Much like Gladys Kravitz, Tiki sticks her nose in business that isn't hers resulting in a histrionic drama of epic proportions. Tiki's shrill yap is quite reminiscent of Gladys' equally shrill "ABNER!"

Marcia Brady's narcissism is evident in Tiki's doggie persona (Marcia also had a hint of histrionics as well). Tiki demands attention and covertly budges her way in to get the accolades she so deserves. She is beautiful and she knows it. Tiki takes serious ownership of her belongings just like Marcia treasured her prized trophies. Marcia wouldn't share with Jan, and Tiki makes it known she will not share her trophies either. Missy is probably secretly saying "Tiki, Tiki, Tiki!" You know, like Jan says, "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia".

Tiki's diagnosis: Narcissistic Personality Disorder
Histrionic Personality Disorder
Little Dog Syndrome

Oh, poor Missy is a clinical nightmare. She has all of the initials used in diagnostic labeling. Where do I start with this poor girl.

Her humanish counterparts are Eeyore, Droopy and Corky from Life Goes On. Obla Di, Obla Da.


I have heard it said that dogs are not stubborn. The quality of being stubborn suggests there is a willful deceit which dogs are supposedly incapable of. But Missy is the epitome of stubborn, or shall we say oppositional and defiant.

If Missy does not want to go for a walk, there is no way to force her. At times, she will refuse to even begin walking when we approach the trail head. She says to me with her doggie eyes:

"No, I don't want to go and you can't make me".

The more I insist, the more she resists.

"No, really. Go ahead without me. You don't really want me to join you. I'll just sit in the car. You'll have more fun without me anyway."

She is attention seeking in such a way that is self defeating. She enjoys hearing:

"Missy, we missed you on our walk. We wish you would have joined us."Her tail wags happily upon hearing this.

A friend recently described Missy as a "Bumbling kid with Down Syndrome". Rather, I see Missy as having qualities of autism. She has poor social skills and lacks the necessary tools to make canine friends. Choosing to be off doing her own thing instead of mingling with her buddies.

She also has incredible social anxiety. New people and new situations are hard for her, but once you win her heart, you'll have it forever.

Missy's diagnosis (in no particular order):
Chronic Depression
Boderline Personality Disorder
Oppositional Defiant Disorder
Social Anxiety Disorder
Reactive Attachment Disorder
Down Syndrome
Autism Spectrum Disorder
Rule out Prader Willie Syndrome

Whew! What Disorders affect your furry friends?

Friends of all Ages

Growing up, I have always had many friends who were in a variety of age groups. When I was in Jr. high school, you could easily find me playing with kids who were still in elementary school or chilling with the high school gang. On top of the kids roughly my own age, I also had friends who were adults. It may sound weird, but true. An average day consisted of me playing dollies with the neighbor girls in the morning, having afternoon tea with the elderly lady down the street, and finishing up providing "adult" conversation for the single mother a little further down the street.

I was the neighborhood social butterfly and reaped my rewards by getting complimentary wheelbarrow rides from anybody willing to give them. When my mom's friends called to speak with her, and I happened to answer the phone, it was not uncommon for them to spend 10 minutes or so talking to me first. They weren't fake phone conversations like those moms who put their children on the phone to talk to the caller on the other end; they were true phone conversations because they were interested in hearing what I had to say.

Happily, it remains that way today. One of my dearest buddies is in her 20's and another best bud in her 40's. I have travelled to Florida with a lady old enough to be my mom, and I used to take nightly walks with one of my mom's closest friends, Sue. Just Sue and me.

Life has several different social stages. First, there is the Birthday scene when you are a child. Going to all your friends Birthday parties and having some of your own. Then come the graduation parties followed by college benders. Soon the mailbox becomes full with invitations for bridal showers and wedding announcements. (If you're lucky, you don't get asked to be a bridesmaid.) Baby showers and birth announcements make their appearance next. Celebrations continue with Anniversary parties and Retirement galas. Lastly, you enter that stage where you are sadly attending the Funerals.

With having a gamut of friends in all age groups, I belong to all of those different stages. Currently, I find myself attending fewer and fewer weddings, but more and more baby showers. And, yes, my funeral attending stage is approaching all too quickly. Just last year I lost my tea drinking partner. I still think of her each time I mow the lawn...long story.

Which brings me to the news I heard today. Sue, my aforementioned 63 year old walking buddy has suffered a stroke. This news, is of course, devastating and scary. Just a few days ago, I saw her. A seemingly healthy woman who was full of life. Smiling, happy, and vibrant. Ironically, she quit smoking 4 months ago, began to eat healthy and restarted her walking regime. Proof, my mom says, why she is never going to quit smoking herself. Whatever.

Naturally, my mind is preoccupied with healing thoughts for Sue and once again I am reminded of my own good fortune for the good health of my parents. Something I never take for granted.

I cannot wait to walk once again with Sue once she recovers. How is that for positive thinking?

Waiting for a Ring

All day long I have been ruminating about not wanting to go to work this weekend. For starters, the weather has finally decided to get nice. After a week of fog, rain, and wind complete with tornado warnings, this weekend is supposed to be fairly nice. Sunny and warm. Nice weather, particularly on the weekend, makes going in to work that much more difficult.

Secondly, work is a little dicey with more than one acting out kid, and I hear we have been working short handed quite a bit lately. So my anxiety is sky high tonight mostly because it has been a few days since I have been "on the unit". Entering into the "unknown" always causes me to bite my nails and raid the fridge a little more than normal. Like going to the dentist, the thought and anticipation of going is far worse than actually going. Once you are there, its not all bad.

Thirdly, I have been dreading working 16 hours all weekend long as I typically do doubles throughout the weekend. Then it occurs to me: I do not have to do doubles; I can go in just for my scheduled shift, and then go home. Sometimes I forget that. Truly I do. Immediately I begin to feel better about going to work tomorrow knowing it only has to be for 8 hours if I want it to be. Or I can double. The choice is mine to make which alleviates a small percentage of my anxiety.

A coworker told me the other day that I have an abusive relationship with my job. I wouldn't quite say that, but sometimes I feel like it is a marriage. I'm just waiting for my ring.

My Parents are Homeless

Tomorrow I become a homeowner. Again. Exactly 5 years ago this month, I bought my first little house. And little it is. I love it. Its perfect for me and my cats, and small enough to heat and pay mortgage. Tomorrow, I will own a second house.

My home actually.

My parents are putting their house, my childhood home, in my name as preparation for the end of their lives. My Dad is in his 70's and my mom is getting close to the big 7-0 herself. They figure that it is better that I have ownership of their house in case something should happen or they end up in a nursing home. Its hard to think about so I simply won't. However, that is not going to stop me from having some fun being their landlord so to speak.

Already I have told them they are not allowed to smoke in "my house".....they just laugh and reinforce to me that I am not allowed to make new rules or kick them out.

Getting ownership of my childhood home will, obviously, be bittersweet. I am so thrilled to know that this home will forever be a part of our family, unless I decide to sell it of course. It gives me piece of mind to know that some strangers will not take up residence in the very home that holds so many memories and laughs.

Still, its a reminder of the inevitable. And in reminding me of that, it is also a reminder to appreciate each day I am fortunate enough to still spend with them.

Crushed Dreams and Independence

Not to be a Debbie Downer here, but I just need to blog about my emptiness just for a moment. Its a rare vacancy these days because I have come to embrace my Childless/Single Woman Status. Most days I stand tall and proud and brag about how great I have it. However, lately I have had just a few fleeting pangs of "I want that".

For starters, I got a phone call from my good friend who just gave birth to baby number 5! Yes, five. And that is not all; her oldest child is 5. That is 5 single births in 5 years. No thank you. But to be able to hold one little bundle in my arms, and to be able to call him/her my own would be magical.

Looking at pictures or hearing about my friends who are having play dates reminds me of what I am missing out. I am often absent from this scene as I don't quite fit in anymore. We have less in common now. They talk about their kids and families. I talk about my cats and my job.

Then, the worst possible thing happens. I become the babysitter. Just another reminder that I don't quite fit in. I get to watch their kids while they go have fun with their friends. Never did I imagine I would be a 30-something babysitter.

Which is exactly what I am doing right now.

Babysitting often awakens one of two emotions in me: 1). I am so glad I can never have kids/I would never be able to do it OR 2). I am so sad I can never have kids/I want it more than anything. Tonight these little cherubs were happy, affectionate, and wonderful so the latter emotion is evoked tonight. I look around at the house filled with toys and life, and realize that my house will forever be filled with just cat hair.

But when I am able to get my uninterrupted sleep tonight, wake up and do whatever the hell I want tomorrow, and not have to answer to anyone or anything, those feelings will quickly subside. My yearnings to have children are less and less with each passing year, but once in a great while they sneak up on me and remind me of something I will never have.

Special Invitation for Sassy

This is for you, Sassy! I'm hoping you stop by my blog and take a peek. Read some of "My Favorites".....my last few posts are not that great, and none are nearly as good as yours, but I'm trying.

Utopia

In my world there exists no massive oil leak in the ocean causing devastation to the creatures that rely on the ocean for their existence. In my world, there is no water or air pollution. No hurricanes, tornadoes or tsunamis that displace thousands of unsuspecting people. There exists no war where thousands of soldiers have lost their lives and innocent civilians have perished. And the Twin Towers still stand tall and mighty. In my world there exists no child abuse or domestic abuse or animal cruelty. Only loving families who strive for only the very best. In my world, there exists no cancer or disease or death. In my world, lost children are reunited with their intact families (because divorce also does not exist). In my world, depression, autism and mental illness do not paralyze the inhabitants. Homelessness and poverty are not present. There is not even a name for rape, torture or homicide. People are happy. There is peace and beauty and harmony. Forests and lakes are vast and pure.

This is my own private Paradise that is necessary for me to create from time to time, otherwise I go crazy thinking of reality. Its a tough world in which we live, and its easy to concentrate on all the devastation. Its so important to keep a personal Utopia to retreat to once in a while. For tonight, that is where I am.

Matters of the Morning

Normally, I am an early riser in the mornings. A morning person through and through. When the birds start singing at 4:00 AM, I smile. Sure, I go back to sleep, but I do smile. Then I usually wake up around 7ish to start the day at full throttle. It is not uncommon for me to have laundry done, bathroom cleaned and dishes washed all before 8:00 AM. Sometimes I even manage to get in a hike or a roller blade fairly early as well. All of this accomplished sans coffee by the way.

Lately, though, getting out of bed has been a challenge. The past few days, I have stayed in bed until 8:30 or longer, and one day I was awakened by the phone at 9:20! I hate those days and feel like I have wasted a good portion of the day before it has even begun. Its been so hard to roll myself out of my comfy bed and I don't know how in the world I am going to drag my fat butt out of bed tomorrow at 5:42 for work. It will be a challenge. Going to bed early does not seem to help matters of the morning. At least now I have some milk in the house, which means I get to eat cereal tomorrow morning, which means that will be my motivation to slowly rise from my slumber.

Once I am out of my bed, its easy. The thought of emerging from the depths of my cat covered blankies is painful and energy sucking. But where there is cereal, I can, and will, prevail. Tomorrow morning, here I come!