I am dedicating this blog to my little angel Candy.  She recently passed away at the age of sixteen.  I’ve had my little angel since she was three months old.

I was married at the time, when I decided I wanted to get a dog.  My husband, at the time, was not too thrilled with the idea, but, so what.  I happened to be watching a show on television about puppies, and they said Shih Tzu’s were great family dogs.  I had no idea what they looked like, but something inside of me said I had to have one.

Now, this being over seventeen years ago, there was no computer to look things up on.  I had been going to a pet shop for bird seed for my bird, and asked the owner about Shih Tzu’s.  She showed me one, but I was not going to pay $400.00 for a puppy.  I searched the shelters, but they were older dogs, and none of them really “hit” me.

I decided I was going to “buy” a puppy from my pet store.  I remember going in with my mother, and seeing two sisters in cages.  They were identical.  I held one, my mother held the other.  I couldn’t make up my mind….until we switched dogs.  The one I had became very hyper when handed over to my mother.  The other one, my Candy, was very quiet, sweet, and lovingly oblivious.  That was my baby.

When I took her home, I thought I was going to go through the whimpering and crying at night.  I placed her in a box, with a blanket.  She started crying.  I looked down at her, put my finger to my lips and said “shhhh, go night night”.  She looked up at me, laid down and went to sleep.  She was the best, most loved dog I ever had.

She was with me through my divorce, my move from my marital house to my condo, through the death of my mother, and through the move to the beach.  She was the daughter I never had, the baby girl that never grew up.  But, like us all, she did grow old.

I was used to the chronic ear infections, but in 2006 during a routine exam, a vet felt a mass near her spleen.  The X-ray showed a mass that needed to be removed.  She was operated on that night, and her spleen was removed.  The vet told me that it had started to bleed, and if I hadn’t brought her in THAT DAY, she would have died in her sleep.  The miracle was, the surgeon usually did not work on Friday’s, which was the day she was operated on.  He just HAPPENED to be there.  I guess she had her own guardian angel.  Or, maybe it was mine.  See, my mother was in rehab at the time from a broken hip.  What I didn’t know was, she had lung cancer and would die in two months.  God knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle both of them going.

After her operation, she was fine until a few months before she died.  She was then diagnosed with Hyperthyroidism, and a very bad heart murmur.  She was allergic to the heart medication, so I took her off them.

Her heart became weak very quickly.  At the end, they believe she was throwing off blood clots, which was causing seizures.

She totally stopped eating, and her breathing was very shallow.  I had to make a decision.  Did I want to wake up and find her dead, or was I going to have her euthanized.  I opted for the latter.

I had her cremated with her blanket.  I bought her an urn online, which has her picture painted on it, along with the dates.

As I sit here typing this, I have tears running down my face.  My little angel is gone.  I only hope she knew how much she was loved, and how much she will be missed.

She was my first puppy and she will be my last dog.  She cannot be, and never will be replaced.  I will always miss her, always remember her, and always love her.  She was my daughter…in a fur coat.

As you may, or may not have read in my introduction, I have a panic disorder.  Now Panic Disorders are nothing to laugh about, but then again, it may be all about how you look at it.

Let me explain.  I remember one time, years ago, before I was put on the “correct” medication, I was at Macy’s, shopping when all of a sudden…panic struck.  I had been give Xanax at the time, so I took one.  But then I made a big mistake.  I got on the escalator and went upstairs.

My thinking at the time was, I’ll look at all the things up here and it will calm me down until this passes.  Boy was I wrong.  My heart started racing faster, I started sweating and feeling like I was about to die.  Extreme panic… need to leave…Have to get out NOW.  One little problem.  The only way down is by escalator, or elevator.  No stairs anywhere.  This is not good.  Anyone having a panic attack knows, elevators are not even an option, and escalators are not much better.  To top this off, I figured I’d look at the clothes a little to give the Xanax time to kick in.  Well, guess what.  The clothes on the second floor in Macy’s are all petites.  Hello, I’m 5′7″, I’m in a full blown panic mode, and I can’t even find a damn dress to look at.  I’m trapped on the second floor of Macy’s without even a small hope of maybe, just maybe being able to take my mind off of it by shopping.

Needless to say, I did survive.  I wound up taking the elevator down.  But I did learn my lesson.  Always check out where the petite section is before heading upstairs in a department store.

I have two dogs.  One by choice, the other, not so much.  My dog is a sixteen year old Shih Tzu.  I’ve had her since she was three months old.  She is my baby.  My basic problem I have with her, besides chronic ear infections, is that she is a very picky eater.  Yeah, she started off on dog food, but that ended quickly when she refused to eat.  My being the overprotective mother that I am, offered a various menu of “people food”.  Needless to say, she has not had dog food in sixteen years.

That would not be so much of a problem, except, she is now very picky about which people food she will and will not eat.  Again, please note I am overprotective, and do not want the dog to die of starvation, have “cooked”, yes I said “cooked” many different types of food for her.  Some of the listings are: meatloaf, made with milk so it will be soft enough for her to chew, and  chicken parm, because she likes tomatoe sauce and cheese has protein.  She has also enjoyed Frosted Flakes, with milk, and a bowl of ice cream.  For a quick and easy meal, I open a can of canned chicken and top it with american cheese, which is melted in the microwave.

Little miss fussy pants has been rejecting all of the above lately.  It seems she has found the world of “fast foods” to be more appetizing.  With much less coaxing and a little hand feeding she will devour a couple of Micky D cheesebergers, Wendy’s chicken nuggets, and Reese’s peanut butter cups for desert.

I call her my anorexic dog because of her fussy eating.  My other dog, an eleven year old Dachshund, which had been my mother’s dog, eats everything and anything.  She is overweight, and has trouble walking because of this.  She, however,  Must Be Fed.  If she is hungry, watch out.  She will get mean, nasty and will bite.  Take it from someone who has been bitten by her, Dachshunds have very large teeth.  Small dogs, big teeth.  She has been known to eat paper towels, envelopes, and  toilet paper while still on the roll.  She looked like the dog on the commercial coming out of the bathroom with the toilet paper flying behind her while she was trying to eat it.  But, since my mother had her since she, too, was three months old, and they both lived with me, I am used to this behavior from her.  There is something new she is doing, and I’m trying to figure out “why”.

As I said the dog eats everything in sight, but her latest thing is trying to eat my son’s girlfriends “toes”.  The dog has lived with “toes” all of her life, and never once tried to ingest one as an appetizer.  The only way I can explain this is by the color of  her nail polish.  My nail polish is, and has always been a silver color.  Krissy, my son’s girlfriend, does her toenails in red.  Now, trying to think like a hungry dog, I’m thinking, maybe the dog thinks it’s a hot dog, with ketchup?  Krissy also puts lotion on her feet, and that mixed with the red polish makes for a good frankfuter.

Oh, and by the way, frankfuters will, at times be eaten by my Shih Tzu.

Barbecue anyone?

I live near the beach for a reason.  The reason being, so “I” can go to the beach.  So “I” can go to the beach often.  This, however, is not the case.  Now that summer has arrived, everyone and their brother is taking their vacation at “my” beach.  What this means, is I cannot get a parking space.  I have done more driving just trying to stop driving and park.  I drove for over an hour and a half looking for a place to put my car.  I finally gave up and decided to go to the State Park.  I did get a parking space there, but only after waiting on line to get into the park.

I think, they should have “resident” parking only.  They have permit parking only, however, “outsiders” can purchase a parking permit.  I think the permits should only be available to the residents of the city, and at a much less cost than they are actually charging.  After all, it is the residents of this city that keep the city going.  We’re the ones utilizing the local shops and businesses.   True, they depend on tourism, but it is the year round residents that the city should be trying to accommodate, and let the tourists fend for themselves.    What better way for a “tourist” to tour than on bicycle, and leave the driving to us.

I went out on Sunday, with someone I met at a club.  I haven’t been on a date in awhile, and now I remember why.  It’s a little awkward trying to have a conversation with someone you really don’t know, and after twenty minutes you realize you really don’t want to know this person.  Not that he wasn’t nice, just not my type.  We really had nothing in common.  He had no children, no past or present marriage, and no past relationship to speak of.  I realized,  it is the tragedy, or disappointments in your life that make us interesting.  It is the relationships that failed, ended, or simply died that gives us character.  It is the children that we complain about, stress about and wish would grow up and move out that makes us  intriguing. It’s the people we loved, argued with, and ended up hating that makes us the well rounded, emotionally stable (or unstable) secure person within yourself.  Now, if I could only find a way to clone myself, then I’d have a great time dating….me.

Hello

Let me begin by introducing myself.  My name is Karen.  I call the world I live in “Karenland”.  That is because I moved here two years ago, and this is the first time I am actually living somewhere by choice, not necessity.  This is the first time I am living in a place that I actually like.  This is the place I’ve always wanted to live in.  It is a mile away from the ocean, and there are plenty of stores around.  One of my biggest reasons for moving here is…. It is only 17 miles away from NJ.  True, it’s 17 miles of water, but in my world, 17 miles, is 17 miles.

I am a divorced, working mother of one son and two small dogs.  I was married for many years to a man who drank too much, cared too little about his family, and tried to ruin me emotionally through our divorce.

I’ve lived through : a divorce, a drug addicted step-child, a panic disorder,  torn retina, a sick parent, an emotionally wrecked child, job loss, death of a parent, debt and moving.  I also have high blood pressure and am considered by a cardiologist to have Marfan Syndrome.

When you think about it, it’s because of these things that I now live in Karenland.  I consider it my reward for going through all the things that suck in life.

I think we all get some type of compensation in life for going through hell, and mine is called Karenland.

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