Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Plans Change

Yes, I have been putting this post off for way to long.

I could argue that it is late because I have been busy...which I have been. Insanely so.

But the reality is simply that I have been putting it off on purpose, as if writing it all out here would somehow make the events of the past few weeks reality...while deep down, I knew that I really was only denying events that already were reality. I simply couldn't...or wouldn't...admit that reality to myself.

When I drink my coffee in the morning, my first sip is a test. Often the coffee is too hot to drink at that time. And so I wait. I let it cool. I drink it when it is not so hot; when it is less painful. And then I find that I actually enjoy it.

So, perhaps putting off this blog post was simply my way of letting the coffee cool.

I know that I sometimes like to pretend that I write this blog for the benefit of my few readers who are presumably interested in Novel. The truth is that I write it only for my own sanity. Some people drink coffee, some people watch TV, some people exercise to maintain sanity. I walk in the woods and I write. As a warning, this post will be one of those particularly "sanity-saving" posts, so please brace yourselves as I prepare to work through my feelings and bare the truth in my soul in an endeavor to embrace reality....and not insanity. Allow me to drink my coffee:

I was, actually, drinking coffee. It was 9:38am on Friday morning, September 27th. An hour earlier, I had just finished an invigorating swim, but for the past 33 minutes, my chemistry professor had been delivering a fascinating lecture on quantum mechanics, atomic orbitals, and electron configurations. "How does an electron move from one value of n to another without ever crossing a node?"

A mystifying question indeed.

When my phone buzzed in my pocket I nearly jumped out of my seat in fright. Cell phones are strictly forbidden in the lecture hall, and to have one go off in class could very well cost you its privileges for the next week. Thankfully, my phone was on vibrate, and didn't make enough noise to attract the attention of my professor. I glanced down discretely to see who was calling.

"Puppy Program Manager - CCI" blinked across my screen.

"Hmm. I wonder why she's calling" I thought carelessly and brushed it from my mind, returning body and soul into the fascinating topic at hand.

Another buzz of my phone suddenly brought a thought and a steadily rising feeling of dread. I had the intense urge to excuse myself on "important business" and run out of the room to answer my phone. But instead I sat, frozen and terrified, listening to the nearly imperceptible buzz of my phone. How does a person calmly await...and ignore...impending doom without moving a muscle?

A mystifying question indeed.

I convinced myself that she must have been calling for some other reason, perhaps regarding the CCI puppy I would be sitting in the next week. I knew it wasn't a wise move, but it helped me to make it through the rest of chemistry class.

After class, as I walked to my car, I hit redial and left a message. It was a long message and I was painfully cheerful; laughing, even. I knew it was stupid, but laughing is my default language, and I was so nervous I could only resort to default. I hopped into my car and headed to work.

Halfway into my half hour drive, my phone buzzed again. I slapped off the radio and stared at the name blinking across my screen for the second time that day:

"Puppy Program Manager - CCI"

I knew I had to answer it, but I put it off until the 3rd or 4th ring, and then answered mechanically,

"Hello, this is Katherine..."

I don't remember many of the specifics of the phone call. I was informed that Novel had been having unpredictable accidents, and attempts to "fix" them had been unsuccessful. Because of this, Novel was being released from the program.
 I was professional. I commented on her observations and answered her questions with maturity. I kept myself emotionally detached.
"Yes, I completely understand."
"No, I probably will not be able to take him back as a pet due to financial and time constraints resulting from school, work, and a possible second puppy in training."
"Thank you for letting me know."
etc.

I actually made it through the phone call without crying, but when I hung up, there was a sob. A single, involuntary, heart bursting sob that embodied every ounce of hope and worry and pride that had accumulated in my soul over the year and a half that I have known Novel, and the tears flowed down for an instant. As comforting as a giant sigh, as exhausting as a marathon, and as comprehensive as I know my chemistry final will be, that sob left me with absolutely nothing else to cry with. Still, I couldn't help feeling absolutely devastated.

By 5:30pm, my work day had gone by fairly well considering the state of my insides; all tied in knots and dunked in poo and run over by monster trucks. And my mind that was racing a million miles a second trying to hold it together and make sense of it all.
...Actually, my day wasn't really that great at all. An angry cat sliced my hand open going into anesthesia, surgeries went long and I got almost no lunch break, and in general the day was crazy because we were short one tech.

To top it all off, just as I was leaving, a coworker dropped an off-hand comment about Novel and I, forgetting that he was gone. She quickly realized her mistake, but then, afraid that she had upset me by mentioning him, she started apologizing profusely, but rather insincerely. Normally the comment wouldn't have bothered me. Even today when the subject of Novel was particularly tender, it was only the apologizing that really got to me. I assured her that she was forgiven and no harm was done, but I wanted desperately to escape the situation before it turned to discussing Novel's training in Florida.

I headed for the door.

"But speaking of Novel," she continued shamelessly. Bluntly. Heartlessly.
I knew where she was going with this, and my heart sank.
"Have you gotten any news on how he is doing recently?"

All eyes turned to me expectantly.

I couldn't make myself tell them the truth.
And so I lied:
"No," I said. "I haven't heard anything"
Then, feeling my insides only sink lower, now into the slimy pit of guilt, I added cheerfully as if I had just thought of it:
"Although! The puppy program manager did leave a message on my phone this morning in chemistry class, but she didn't really say anything. I'll have to call her back and we'll see what she says. Who knows, she could have been calling to say Novel is released."
That last part I added in a half sarcastic voice to hide the truth in it.

All of that was completely true. the puppy program manager HAD called and left a message, and she really didn't say anything at that point. I had already talked to her, but I did still have to call her back to give her my definite decision on adoption...and so I wasn't really lying...right?

I slunk out the back door and drove home, feeling lower than the dirty, dog hairy floor boards of my car.


* Please note: this is not the end. I will be posting part 2 in a day or so. I've gone on much to long and run out of time today. Just keep your chin up, it gets better! After all, I wouldn't have said I enjoyed drinking coffee if I planned on ending the story here :) 

1 comment:

  1. I am sorry to hear of Novel's release, but I am looking forward with hope that the second part of this story is the "better" part. I will be checking back ... and in the meantime, I hope you feel a perfect sense of accomplishment in Puppy Raising Novel, because it really is a tough job and I'm glad that you had the experience and did so well with him. Something of that nature that dismisses a puppy, is just really hard to say it had anything to do with his 18 months with you. There are many factors, so move forward with confidence that he is STILL an amazing dog and that you were an excellent team!! Can't wait to read the next post ... so ... hope you get to writing soon. =)

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