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A Woman and her Dog
I am so sentimental. I took Cody on a “last walk” and made it a big deal. We took pictures, stopped and rested in all the shady places, and had petting fests. It was great.
He was happy, and I was getting through the grieving process that I had built into a bigger deal than it needed to be. This goodbye went exactly the way it needed to. I stayed for a week and watched Cody act like a puppy again with five other dogs to play with. He likes my brother, he LOVES my sister-in-law who gives him treats all the time. He is going to be a happy, healthy, well-cared-for dog. In fact, they’ve already taken him to the vet, and his tumors are benign! What a relief! He’s already better off because of his new home.
Me, well, I’m okay too. Of course, I will miss our walks and all the times he follows me around with his big sighs and adorable puppy eyes. I’ll miss cuddling with him when I’m cold and having silly conversations with him. But there are a lot of things I won’t miss. Like DOG HAIR EVERYWHERE! The slobbers, the constant having to hurry back in case he needs to go outside to pee when I’m gone—the worry!! I worried about him all the time. I’ve always been a helicopter mom, and I was no different as a dog mom.
We walked downtown, and I took some cool photos of old buildings. You know what I will miss the most besides his constant adorableness? The feeling of being safe with a big dog. I could walk in neighborhoods I didn’t know without fear. I could walk at night (not that I did, but I could if needed). I could walk by scary guys and know that Cody would growl and take a chomp out of them if they even dared to act aggressively toward me. I loved having a big dog. He was a kitten in spirit, but he could look scary when he needed to, and I always felt safe with him.
I hope we both live long enough to be reunited. I like to dream of all the lives we might someday have. But if this is the only one we got, it was pretty good!
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Texas Bound
The beauty of my new lifestyle is that I have so much more time! When Bug moved out, I found myself with hours of free time. I didn’t have to pick her up from work, take her to school, or drive all over the OC for all her various errands. I thought that was great. I missed her, but I loved my newfound freedom. Then, I moved to the Sticks and had to quit my part-time job. My freelance jobs trickled down to odd jobs here and there, and then I had even more time. I clean houses and help my parents, but I can make my schedule. It’s almost like being retired. Retired without an income. You know how it goes: you either have time or money but never both simultaneously.
This wealth of time has become especially relevant with my latest predicament with my parents’ HOA and my dog, Cody. A little backstory for anyone who isn’t tuned into my Instagram feed: My parents and I have been balls of anxiety about what to do with Cody since I moved in with them in January. My Dad had written a letter to the board in November asking if I could be allowed to live in their (55+) retirement community as a caregiver for my mother. We’d heard lots of individual opinions about Cody being accepted as an emotional support animal from various board members but hadn’t gotten an official ruling.
Since I had no money to pay my rent, I was forced to couch surf or move in with my parents. I put half of my stuff in a friend’s storage unit and stayed as a guest with my parents until we heard whether I’d be allowed to move in. It was weeks of not knowing. Finally, we heard there was a ruling, but my thirty days as a guest were running out. I had one more day and no letter of a decision. It was nerve-wracking.
So I decided to take matters into my own hands and walked across the street to the secretary of the board’s house to ask her myself. At this point, I felt that any news would be better than no news. I couldn’t handle the suspense anymore.
The secretary was very nice and told me that the good news was that I was approved to stay as a caregiver. The bad news was that caregivers didn’t have the same rights as residents, and the emotional support animal rule did not apply. I was defeated. I had a lot of evil thoughts about what to do about this seemingly ridiculous rule, but my parents have been in violation of their HOA rules for having too many pets since the day they moved in. I didn’t feel like I was in a position to fight a fight that would put my parents at risk. So sad, too bad.
I took all my pent-up emotion and decided to channel it into an epic road trip with just Cody and me to Texas to visit my brother and take him up on his offer to rehome Cody until I could reclaim him. I do love a good road trip, and there is no better way to work through your dark feelings than lots of alone time on the road. I booked a super cute hotel in Tuscon and set out immediately.
I am a sucker for cute hotels. I would be a happy camper if I could travel full-time, take pictures, and have adventures. Cody and I had the best time. He is an ideal travel companion. He keeps me safe. He doesn’t say much, and he’s perfectly content to ride quietly in the back for hours and hours. He loves rest areas and taking walks to stretch his legs. He loves to go wherever I go and follows me quickly without a leash. I adore him.
The long drive with Cody only cemented how much I love him and what a great dog he is. It didn’t make it easier to accept that I would be leaving him soon. It breaks my heart to think about him missing me. We are each other’s emotional support companions. He’s seen me through so many dark times. And because I’ve spent so much one-on-one time with him, he distresses easily when he’s not near me. This is a tricky thing. I know he will be loved and well cared for by my brother and his wife. My brother’s wife has already bought him special high-protein dog food and a big fluffy bed and promised to take him to the vet (which I can’t afford right now). But Cody will have to learn how to be a dog again. He’s going to be part of a pack of dogs now. He still gets to be an inside dog and get lots of attention, but my brother and his wife are not me. I’ve spoiled him rotten.
I’m staying for the week to help with the transition process. This is mainly for me so that I can be okay. I need to know that he’s going to be OK. I will worry myself sick thinking up scenarios where he’s neglected or left alone, left in the weather, or picked on by the other dogs.
So far, he’s doing great. He loves the other dogs, and I see a playful side of him that is usually reserved for me and his rope toy. I think he will bond with his new family (which includes Momo!). He’ll mope, I’m sure, and miss all the treats I give him that I’m not supposed to, but he will be cared for. He’s going to the vet to get his tumors looked at, which I’ve been worrying about but haven’t been able to afford to get looked at yet.
It’s going to be okay. I plan to visit him in April, and I’m daydreaming about taking him on an even longer road trip this summer if I can pull it off.
Just you and me, Codes. Just you and me.