So just because I play a therapist in real life for money doesn’t mean that I always have my own emotions, anxieties, and self-doubt in check. I have my good, great, and terrible days too. Recently, I’ve been struggling with some sick pets and a slowing down Rhonda Rae. All of which having been making me sad to witness.
I have two adorable fur babies, both are Chewies and the other is a crazy, cranky, and crusty old lady Ronda Rae. And I do love all of them! To be honest, if I can help it, I don’t think I’ll ever have a home without a dog for the rest of my life. The love and support they give is pretty fuckin amazing. They never disappoint like people do or eventually do, after all it seems to be human nature to do so. They are genuine, adoring, and there’s never any false pretenses with them. They’re pure love (if done right) and that’s what I need and want.
Feb 10, 2013, a then boyfriend I was living with surprised me with a dog for an early Valentine’s Day present. I’d been wanting a dog for a long time, and he’d always say no or that he didn’t want one. He’d say, “If you can keep a plant alive for 6 months then you can get a dog.” Little did I know (at the time) how hard it was to keep plants alive. The dog was a male chewie named, “Pancho.” He was a rescue and estimated to be anywhere from 2-3, maybe 4 years old.
Since he already had a name and it was “mean” to make him learn a new one, I simply added a middle one. Like that of many of my female extended family members, his middle name was practically destined to be “Marie.” “Pancho Marie Castillo”, I thought yaaas bitch, that sound sooooo right! The middle name serves the same purpose as it does for humans… I use it heavily when he is in trouble. PANCHO MARIE!
Pancho Marie has been with me 11 years, 5 months, and 18 days and then you add the estimated time of his birth, 2-4 years before that, makes him anywhere from 13-16 years old. Fuck, writing it out makes me realize just how old my little baby really is.
I never imagined I could keep myself alive for this long, much less a dog. Although I still accidentally kill plants from time to time, Pancho has survived so many “getting to know you” moments. The first few weeks were tough, I kicked him off the bed a few different nights until I got used to him being down by my feet.
I’m sure by now you realize how ADHD I really am- Pancho Bunny Squirrel.
He has survived many of those dumb/stupid ADHD moments where I get distracted and don’t see him going out the door after me and then lock him out. He’s such a good boy he would stay right by the door and not run off. I think he knew a good thing when he was fed by it, despite the ADHD. Then there was that time many, many years ago, when I accidentally left him in a hot car at the Layton Hills Mall, cause I forgot he was with me. (He was so quiet in the back seat sleeping.) – Pancho Bunny Butts.
He’s survived at least one previous owner who trained him well. And so far… he’s survived so many of my errors. (He must have known I was talking to you guys about him cause he just asked me to pick him up and put him on my lap.) I don’t know what I would have done the last 11+ years without him. I’m so glad that I didn’t fuck it up that bad that I lost him. And I’m not sure what I’m going to do in the years to come after him either. I wouldn’t change the experience of him even if it hurts or is going to hurt.
I look at him sometimes and wonder if his previous owner died, grew too old to take care of him, or just couldn’t afford to care of a dog anymore. It gets so expensive, and this year has been the most so far and omfg I’m so glad I didn’t have to choose between their care and bills, rent or food.
Pancho Marie Bunny Butt is my tannish and whitening faced, big eared, tongue hanging out, lipstick hanging out, and at times a snarly lipped oldest baby. He’s had a notable decline in the last few weeks and one day it was so bad that I even made an appointment with his vet to put him down.
I was a fucking mess, and he looked terrible. I kept asking him if it was his time to go and if it wasn’t to give me a sign. I also prayed for one. He’d recently had a congestive heart failure episode, and I thought he was a goner.
That episode along with his bad eye (that I have to put drops in twice a day), his bad hip, a collapsed trachea (from CHF and coughing), and the pukes and the shits all wore we the fuck down. We hardly slept that night and were up early that morning because his bad night carried over to sunrise.
He was on a few different medications and his little body was just not reacting well to it- it was literally killing him. As I was sitting there crying, I held him and kept watching the clock. I was covered in tears and snot as I sat there in the longest hour of my life. It was 9 o’clock, 1 more hour until the appointment.
He had crawled away from me a bit earlier because I was likely smothering him with too much affection. He often moves to the other side of the bed far away from me on most days and says, “Hey, looksies no feelsies… I’m not a gay dog. I’m a gangster.” Just then my little gangster came over and nuzzled me and I grabbed the treat again and tried to feed it to him. This time he ate it gently from my hand. That was all the sign I needed.
I stopped most of the mediations that day, cut down his CHF med to half the dose and kept the eye drops. Everything else can fuck right off. I realize that I’d rather he continue to have that loving look in his eye for the rest of a shorter life than feeling sick all the time for a longer one. Quality vs quantity, and it was an easier choice than I thought it was going to be. The call to the vet to cancel the appointment was even easier to make than that. Oh, how I love him.
That day I called Rhonda Rae and through tears said something like, “I realize that Pancho and you will be leaving me sooner than later. Probably around the same time too.” I talked about how that would change my life a lot. I realize that without an old man puppy and an old man Rhonda Rae, that Genni Lou and I could have a lot more freedom, especially in my mind. Both of those little old grumpy guys are nearing, inching, and sometimes slowly limping nearer to their last days. And I’ve cleaned up both of their accidents with a shampooer when they got sick.
The other day I asked my friend Toni, “WTF? Am I in a relationship with an 81-year-old man and I’m the last to know it?” Look, I love him, but it’s not like that at all. Maybe if he was 20 years younger…sure.
Have I given him a dance for his bday and given him a show? Yea. It was the kindest thing for me to do for a naughty old man. And that old naughty gay man enjoyed the show.
To be honest with you both of those old guys give me love. I moved here, I told his daughter that I’d check in on him and then a friendship happened. I think we both needed each other at that moment, and it gave me a sense of purpose and someone safe to love right back. It’s just too late now to just walk away. I already care about the guy, and he makes me laugh. So what if he’s 1,000 years old, he’s my family here where I have none.
Over the last year Ron has visibly slowed down some. He’s had some health issues, but he is still with it. She still gotz them cognitive functions, well most of them. She clearly has lost some because he loves to argue with me and thinks he’s always right. She’s not! (Earlier today as I fixed his computer he said, “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” I replied, “Bitch, you don’t either.” And we looked at each other, he shrugged, and we started laughing cause it’s true for the both of us.)
Ron and I sometimes talk about my future boyfriend or husband… and what kind of person he thinks I should date. Even last night, we talked about that stuff over dinner, and you could tell he feels sometimes like he is holding me back. And well… yes, that cranky old bitch is holding me back and that’s okay. It just happened to turn out that way, it certainly wasn’t planned to be besties with an old af grumpy white man. I told him that this friendship, the love he and my dogs give me are enough for me right now- in this moment.
I can’t look after Pancho Marie, Genni, Rhonda Rae, work full time and then some, express myself through my own therapeutic choice of writing, and be out every night at the club kind of man. I get tired too and omg do I ever feel stretched a little thin the last few weeks, which has led to me stress eat, which is stretching my waist and thickum thighs a bit.
I know they won’t be with me too much longer. If I’m lucky I’ll get another 6 months out of Pancho Marie and then I’ll be devastated, despite all this preparation. And with Rhonda Rae, when she leaves, it will be sad but he’s very excited to go see if there’s something else after this and hopes to be reunited with his husband of so many years, Rick. Can’t blame him. I want to run towards love too.
So, I was carrying around some sadness that I’m releasing now. Bye sadness… go on your way. There is no smart reason to grieve now and then again when them bitches die, whenever that happens. That’s all part of life. And in the future bitch, I do expect to be ripped apart with heart ache, grief and anal sex to cope with such losses. For the meantimes, the stretched thin times, stressed times, and good times, I’m okay. This is enough for me right now.
That’s Enough,
The Happy Homo
PS Stoner thoughts… When we get to the gs for tropical storm or hurricane names for Florida… I’m hoping that G name will be, “Gay”. Then we can say, now that hate filled little bitch of a governor is saying gay. And so is every other homophobic misinformed, oppressor in FL. Gaaay! GAAAAY! GAY! (No, I’m not wishing a storm but you know it’s inevitable, but hate is not.)
PSS The traitor trump campaign is saying they’ve been hacked. You know it’s a “look over there” thang. We know that Iranian cyberthreats attacked Microsoft and we all felt it on that day. Microsoft also said Iranians were going to try to influence the election and it’s not to favor VP Kamala Harris. They want traitor trump to win. They share so many oppressive, corrupt, and dictator like traits with that felon. They oppress women and traitor trump made it easier for American women to be oppressed in their own states. I wouldn’t put it passed them if they are working with them and the Russians to spread misinformation.
PSSS I think they totally misjudged America and our resolve, patriotism, and love for ALL of our freedoms. They underestimated the things we can accomplish together when our pussy is on fire for freedom!
PSSSS Don’t ever underestimate minority women, teachers or happy homos. And Citizen Pete Buttigieg is literally speaking truth all over the place. Keep up the good work. The truth shall set us all free from felon 45. And no I’m not talking about his social media platform where foreign countries can literally pay him to dismantle our government.
PSX5 I hope that you all feel the same excitement and hope I feel for the Harris-Walz campaign. It’s literally good vs evil. And I’m ready to fight for freedom- are you?
PSX6 I love animals, plants and Palm Motha Fuckin Springs.
PSX7 What is America going to do about those election denier- election certification blockers that republicans and traitor trump have put in place in red states to subvert democracy? Do we have national guard watching them on site or other branches of the military? How do we make sure they don’t fuck up our democracy? They can’t win without cheating. How do we prevent them from cheating this time? https://www.msnbc.com/rachel-maddow/watch/maddow-points-out-frightening-truth-about-trump-s-lack-of-concern-about-votes-215958085917
PSX8 Traitor trump took a $10 million bride from Egyptian dictator. Pay to play- he’s corrupt!
PSX9
