Tuesday, October 23, 2001

littledog
Bjork on REVERB; Bjork's Boston shows downloaded, and listened to last night. But today, kinda depressed about the dog-man not calling me back.......... oh well. Being unemployed, maybe I'm not in the best position to be a dog-owner just yet, but I was getting pretty psyched about it - worried, and nervous about being capable and disciplined enough to train and take proper care of this 8-month old cutie, but still, was really looking forward to it...........

a few weeks back, a late night at The Phoneix, I was playing around with the bartender's dog, Nico. Jim came running over to me saying "would you like a puppy?" Huh? "There's this cute puppy that's the talk of my dogrun, she needs a home" Sappy me, I wimper "a puppy needs a home?, awwwwwww, well, um, what do I do?" So, to make a longish story a bit shorter, I called the guy, he seemd quite enthusiastic, and we agreed to meet a few days later, at the dogrun near my house. That day, I waited for 45 minutes at the dogrun, looking at every dog coming inside, thinking "are you my puppy?" Even the ones that were clearly not black mixed-pitt dogs with a single white spot on their backs, I looked closely at each, wondering "are you my puppy?" But, after 45 minutes, I gave up, walking home, thinking maybe he had called, was running late, so I tried each public phone on the way, the first 3 not working at all, the 4th, let me know there was a message, but I couldn't retrieve it. I ran home, got the message, it was him, running late. I ran back to the park, and found the blue FDNY shirt above the 2 dogs - his blonde full-grown dog, plus the black pup that he had taken in after it had followed him and his dog home one day 8 weeks ago. We talked awhile, he let me take her for a walk, and she was strong, pulling constantly, distracted by all the activity in the park, but was sweet, and beautiful. The guy, Mark, was real cool, telling me not to feel pressured, that he'll keep her until he finds a good home, and then offered a "trial run" saying I could have her for a bit, see how it goes, if I am up to it, if she likes me, etc. Wonderful. Subsequently, in the dogbook I'm reading, I see it's a good sign when the owner offers to take the dog back if there's a problem, chances are it's from a "good home" (taken care of properly). He found her in late August, was supposed to get her "fixed", shots, etc on Sept 12, but, well, you know. He was not a talker, and I wanted to be respectful of his "personal life" but couldn't ignore that he's a fireman, so I asked "and how are you doing?" - he mumbled behind his sunglasses "nothing but funerals, rather not talk about it" as his eyes swelled up a bit. I changed the subjest quickly, to his relief, and said something about "not wanting to jinx it, by not thinking about names for the puppy" (he had mentioned he hadn't named her). But he looked down at her, and said, "well, I like Little Dog" as he grabbed at her schnoz playfully, and she looked up at him lovingly; "that's what I've been calling her". We talked just a bit more, agreeing to meet up the following weekend, so I can begin a trial week. As I handed the leash back to him, I got all sad, and even said, "gee, handing her back is tough, I guess that's a good sign" He smiled weakly, I shook his hand, said something about looking forward to next week, and we parted.

I cried on the way home, such a goofball. Imagining his pent-up emotions about being an NYC fireman, and taking care of this puppy for the past month, probably something to look forward to, probably something that gave him some comfort, even more than his other dog, in a way. His attempt at being private, controlled, somehow made it all the more touching to me, and I wondered how tough that must be, to sort of have this open-wound, that strangers will want to say something of comfort, and yet, how terrible it must be to have that thrust upon you constantly, without warning, at times that you don't want it.......

So, I've gathered several books, a gate and even one of those crates (actually, a huge plastic carrier) - fortunately all borrowed, from a nearby pal who was real excited I was getting a dog, sharing all sorts of his own puppy stories. I've had nightmares, wondering if I would be a good "owner" (master??); I've found myself on my couch, watching T.V., tapping the side, as if to call my dog over, the dog that I don't have. I called last week, leaving a message that I'm looking forward to this,and again leaving my phone number. I haven't heard back. Well, I hope that what has happened is that he's decided he wants to keep her, but I would want him to call and tell me, so I can "move on". And then, I can get more serious, and get over to one of those shelters (like BARC, in Brooklyn) that I'd been thinking about for months. It's not like there aren't a zillion animals that could use a good home, right?