A bittersweet update

Although I hope the Rocketman knows he’s still my number one, it’s pretty hard to keep up a blog about a dog you don’t see regularly and live 400 miles away from. Someday we’ll be reunited, but until then, if you’d like to keep up with my goings-on, you have two options:

1. The Amazing Adventures of Josie and Seb – did you know my cat and I are moving in with my boyfriend and his dog? Into an ugly apartment with potential? And we’re fixing the place up ourselves? Oh. Well now you do.

2. Life After MFA – did you know I’m a grad student? Getting my MFA in creative writing? Working on a thesis manuscript? I haven’t reached the “after” part yet, but in the mean time…mostly I just whine about Thesis.

So there you have it – that’s where I’m hiding out lately.

In hound-positive news: I get to see my pup this weekend as he passes through on his way north. :)

Post Secret reads my thoughts…

A very auspicious day…

Happy birthday, my darling hound dog, my favorite April fool!

I know it’s his special day, but – as with all days – it makes me feel very happy to have a hound to celebrate, even if I fear we will always be forced to live apart.

The best gift of all
Is the love of a hound dog -
It gives and it gives.

Ballad of Rocky O’Beagle

We all know a Beagle named Rocky:
Tri-colored, handsome and stocky.
His nose is the winner,
He sniffed out your dinner,
But tummy’s too full to be cocky.

BREWing any sympathy? Any at all?

Talking to my parents recently, I threatened to rescue another Beagle if they didn’t cough up the hound (which I would never do because Rocket is my #1, but hypothetically if I was in the market for a dog I’d be looking at rescues and shelters). Today at work I got curious to see what kinds of options there were as far as nearby(ish) Beagle rescue groups and I found BREW – Beagle Rescue, Education and Welfare.

(Check out the “So U Want a Beagle?” page. It’s nice to see they have a handle on the Beagly brain.)

I spent a good part of my morning looking through the available dogs. They seem like a sweet bunch, mostly younger dogs and pups, but a few senior citizens too. I’m not in the market for a dog because I have Rockoblocko, but if I was they’re the ones I’d go to.

Beagles on the brain today. The prospect of living alone gets sadder and sadderer when I think about it without a dog. I’m pretty sure I’ll be stressed enough next year finishing my MFA without adding the torment of a hound-less life onto it.

Sigh.

Too depressed for a haiku.

Sigh.

Pittsburgh is a Beagle town.

Not quite as adorable as Rocket, of course.

I’m just sayin’.

Time passes on little hound feet.

My boyfriend, Joe, is in town this week visiting from Oregon, which momentarily takes my mind off the pain of a hound-less existence. But human companionship is no substitute for a faithful pup and I remain optimistic for even brighter days. (Joe is what we like to call “A Keeper,” because he is not only a dog-lover but readily admits without ever having met Rocketman that he, Rocky, is the best dog in the universe. Joe’s yellow dog is pretty sweet in his own right, but…we know where my loyalties lie first and foremost.)

Monday Joe and I went to check out some potential apartments. It seemed too good to be true (cheap, near the park, very hound-friendly, no stairs, on a bus line) and it was. I guess they just bought the building and are in the process of fixing it up, but the place was a total crap heap. Holes in the floor, holes in the walls, not a great neighborhood, way further from the park than I was led to believe. I’m glad Joe came along because he noticed all sorts of things that predict the house will eventually sink into the ground and be eaten by a monster.

The second place was similarly rundown (unintentional skylights in every room…), but I got to see a fixed-up version and it was nice enough. I sort of fell in love with the huge windows and all the evening light coming in, but it was even further from the park and far away from a bus stop, grocery store, laundromat, etc. Not ideal. Oh, and apparently the other tenant pays over $200 a month for gas. That’s roughly our gas bill for January for a four bedroom, three story house. Something fishy there. Joe was not impressed. I did really love all those windows, though.

Nothing came of our Monday outing, but it was nice to get out and see places at least. I figure the sooner I have a place to live next year, the sooner I can start highlighting all the reasons why Rocky would be better off living there.

One more interesting property that I really like. This one is actually downtown, in the heart of the theater district. Someone brilliant thought to renovate an old building in an environmentally-conscious way (they’re hoping for LEED certification) and set aside units for people (ahem ahem) who work hard but make piddling amounts of money. I think it would be fun to live downtown, but I wonder if Rocko wouldn’t miss stuff like grass and trees. Sure would be plenty of fun smells, though.

So we’ll see. I’ve still got almost five months before our current house disbands, so…plenty of time for something amazing to come along.

Must find space worthy
of this hound – only the best
For my Beagle beau!

Hound Watch: 1 March 2009

Some news from the front:

The Evil League of Villains Who Hoard Beagles Evilly still refuses to give up their tight hold on the Hound. All efforts to reason with them have failed. There is no working with these people! For Rocky, however, I will continue to fight. My hound needs me now more than ever…

Rocky sent the following snapshot and haiku from his cell:

Stare out windows and
Wish I was elsewhere. With no
Girl life is so sad.

Poor Rocketman…made to suffer so cruelly!

FREE ROCKY!

Rocky needs your help! FREE ROCKY!

In a perfect world, this is the part of the blog where I’d talk about all the adventures the Fat Hound and I are having. I’d share recent stories about funny or adorable or infuriating things he did. We’d all chuckle together, or cry together.

At any rate, the point of the blog – yes, the very soul of FatHoundDog.com – would be reaffirmed. My life would have meaning.

But this is not a perfect world. This is, in fact, a cruel and heartless world. A world without liberty or justice or fairness. I have nothing but a bleak, cold, hound-less existence. My heart has grown cold. Shriveled.

Yes, friends, there is a terrible evil at work. A terrible, horrible, awful evil of which I dare not speak for fear of swift, violent retribution.

No…I’ll chance it! I’ll throw caution to the wind! I’ll do it for the innocent victim of this clash between good and evil: my sweet, darling hound.

It may shock you to learn that Rocketman is being held captive, against his will, by two nefarious evil-doers in the rotten state of New Jersey. To throw them off my trail and protect myself from their wrath, I must avoid using their real names. Instead I will refer to them as “Mom” and “Dad.”

These two fiends, disguised as my parents, are holding my dog hostage until such time as I agree to – I can barely stomach the thought – leave Pittsburgh and return to Jersey. Nevermind that I am an adult person! Nevermind my job! Nevermind that they’ve had Rocky for years and it’s somebody else’s turn to bask in his glory! Nevermind that he’s getting older and our time is short.

It’s madness, I tell you. Madness and selfishness and just plain wrong! Wrong wrong wrong!!!!

Sign the petition to free Rocky! Come to the side of lightness and purity! Give Rocky the happiness he deserves!

Free Rocky! Free Rocky! Free Rocky!

YES WE DID!

How excited was I wake up this morning to a United States where Barack Obama is president elect? How excited were you?

My housemates and I cracked open a bottle of champagne as soon as we heard about the impending victory. We laughed, we toasted, we celebrated. Like so many other voters and young people, we feel like we have a stake in his success. And he succeeded. We succeeded.

Four years ago, I was feeling overall ambivalent to the entire election. I don’t even remember if I voted, which probably means I didn’t. But this year, I triple-checked my registration with the State of New Jersey, filed everything months ahead of time, made absolutely sure that there would be no snags or surprises when I cast my vote. I dropped my absentee ballot in the mail a few weeks ago and I felt like nothing short of a rock star.

So last night was exciting. Both my home state of New Jersey and my foster state of Pennsylvania went blue. The numbers ticked up and up and finally, finally, but so early…Obama became our next president. McCain gave a gracious speech to a typically indignant crowd – and never once resorted to Sad Grandpa! – and then stepped out of the way.

I’ll admit, I cried during Obama’s speech. Maybe kind of a lot. My housemates made fun of me for it, sure, but I think as our lives go this is a Big Deal. This is something huge that I was apart of and I’m even looking forward to what happens next.

I know, I know: he’s a politician and maybe not as all-around awesome as I want to believe he is. Obama was right to thank his campaign team – as political campaigns go, his was genius. It’s no wonder he won AMA’s marketer of the year award (or whatever they call it). I know he’s “just” a politician and I shouldn’t be swept up in the bluster and posturing, but he feels significantly less soulless to me than pretty much everyone else. That counts for something, right?

Still there’s an element of fear for me. Not that he won’t be “up to the task” but that the charisma and power that so inspires me will motivate some kind of violence against him. I want to believe that I live in a country enlightened enough not to resort to such disgusting tactics, but we know those people are out there. Some of them have already been stopped. How many more will try? Is it only a matter of time?

I suppose there’s always that chance. You either choose to live in fear or…you get on with it. So let’s get on with it – full speed ahead to January 2009!