Meet The Dog With Multiple Names

We adopted Mocha/An An from the Baldwin Park Animal Shelter last week and she has been making nice progress adjusting to a home where 4 people want to spoil her rotten.

I like dark corners and tight spaces because I'm emo.

Sometimes I'm happy when I get to sit in someone's lap.

I wanted to give her a name that non-Chinese people would recognize. Unfortunately my mom already had a name picked out. Who the heck knows what An An means? Or even how to pronounce it? Ann? Ahn? So I have covertly been referring to this beloved doggie as Mocha, but I think I am losing the battle because she only responds to the name my mom gave her. Blah.

I'm glad we got her now because I think if we had adopted a puppy any earlier, we inevitably would have kept comparing her to Nina. Our puppy deserves its own relationship with us and I think that's happening. And though I am totally in love with this dog, Nina will always have her own place in my heart. And now under my right shoulder blade, because I got her paw tattooed on me. It's still healing, but it already looks lovely.

Toss and Turn

I can't sleep. For some reason I keep thinking about Nina and the day she left. It's not like I want to cry, but there's a lump in my throat and a lingering sadness.

Conflict

Have you ever been to an animal shelter? If you have any place in your heart for dogs (and even cats), it's a jarring experience. The smell, the pairs of eyes behind wired pens--pleading, imploring, hostile, hurt, desperate, confused--the whines, the barks. I almost wish they would be euthanized soon so they don't have to go through crests and troughs of hope when a human walks by, thinking this might be the one to save them, that they might be adopted and be able to leave this hellhole, only to be disappointed because they are deemed too big, too furry, too ugly, too old, too whatever else that makes them unattractive, to be adopted.

I hate that place. I only went there a few times with my mom in the hopes that we might be able to rescue one. Nina might not have died so much in vain if the reason was to save another canine's life.

Ugh. Now I'm disgusted with what I'm doing. I'm looking through listings of purebred miniature pinschers because my dad can't find a pet at the shelter that satisfies all his requirements. I don't understand his fixation on finding a doppelganger Nina. Does he really like min pins? Or he really liked Nina and misses her so much he's pinning his fondness for her on one who can replace her and fill the missing pet gap? There are so many poor strays at the shelter who are going to be euthanized in days' time and we're looking for purebred min pins online that cost hundreds of dollars.

Sigh.

Dog Days Are Over

Whenever I hear this song I always think of how I used to take Nina by her front paws and twirl her around while singing to her, The dog days are over! She just had this very confused look that also read, please put me down. Oh, what a cutie.

And I didn't know the video was going to be so full of...makeup.

When There's Nothing Else to Think About

I miss my Nina.

Pensieve Entry

So much has been on my mind lately. I've just had a lot more time alone to think about things, between making formatting revisions on my thesis, looking at jobs, and part-time tutoring. This post will be random because I literally am pouring out everything that's stored in my head.

It's been a little over a week since Nina was put to sleep. So far there hasn't been a day where I don't think about her. The first few days, I couldn't stop crying. Any little memory I had that came up in my mind of her would trigger an overwhelming flow of emotion. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Regret. I couldn't really separate them; they just all sort of emerged together and tangled me up into an emotional mess. The final moments of her life just kept replaying in my head. I couldn't get away from them, the images of her struggling to breathe while I was rushing her to the clinic, the spilled blood everywhere. I honestly could say this has been the worst form of emotional pain I've been through. My heart just ached.
I will never stop missing her. All I have left of her now is her dog tag and a paw print I preserved in clay. I think that's enough tangible memory for me though. There was something bittersweet I found in the quote, "When someone you love becomes a memory, that memory becomes a treasure." My memories of Nina are gold.

It seems like my career and relocation plans are facing some challenges. At first when I found out how long the entire process would take, I was really frustrated. Frustrated that it wasn't going smoothly and as how I intended. But after I took some time to think about it, I felt that it was maybe a blessing in disguise. Being here at home longer means I get to spend more precious time with family and friends, relax for a while longer before I become crazy busy again, and just reflect on myself and my life during much appreciated moments of being alone. I do believe all big events in our lives happen for a reason. It's been demonstrated to me time and time again in my own life. Whatever happens these next few months or weeks, I'll go with the flow. It seems to have worked relatively well in the past.

I think my parents are beginning to worry that I don't have a boyfriend or a potential inkling of one. I don't really know what to tell them. Sometimes, I don't really even know what to tell myself. I think I really screw things up for myself. I do believe it's true that it's not hard to be happy. I just have to open my heart to people who are willing to open theirs for me. And there have been windows of opportunity. I find myself really, really wanting to give everything I can offer to someone, emotionally, time-wise, commitment-wise (though I definitely don't mean that in a super-serious, ball-and-chain way), because I think I've reached that point where I'm able to again. But instead, I complicate things for myself by staying fixated on the people, the person, I can't and shouldn't be thinking about. I tell myself not to think about it. It works for a while, because I convince myself differently each time.
You're not really feeling what you're feeling.
That's not what you should be feeling.
Don't take things seriously.
It would never work.
I feel like I'm just fighting myself to no avail. It's like Lindsey Lohan in rehab. Relapse is inevitable. Rargh! In a way, that's also why I'm so eager to go to Beijing. I know it's silly to run away from your issues (in this case, literally), but at least it means I'll have a fresh start, be distanced from this internal struggle I've been having for a while now. In Beijing, I will grow. I will mature. I will find someone who is right for me. At least, that's what I'm hoping.

It actually felt super good to get that out. Girls are stupid huh? Well, we're entitled ;)

ANYWAY, onto a lighter subject near and dear to my heart. I love the warm weather. I forgot how lovely summer in LA can be, especially since I usually take advantage of time off from school to travel and do school-related stuff (as sparingly as possible) during these months. It's especially gorgeous at night. I went for a run tonight and I literally felt like I could just run, and run, and run. I didn't feel tired at all. The breeze on my face felt so calming, and my mind was just blank. I simply was.
Later on I was lying down on the grass, looking up at the sky and listening to Johannes Linstead on my iPod. By the way, he is the reason I have discovered a deep attraction to new age flamenco. Check him out; he is awesome and amazingly talented. Anyway, the sky was especially clear tonight. Or maybe I just don't usually notice it. I could see so many stars, and the moon was just hanging out to my right. I felt true tranquility at that moment. The feeling was incredibly peaceful. No rush, no anxiousness, no negativity. I could have lay there forever, because everything just seemed so simple. And I think I fell in love with the simplicity.

Little Dog, Biggest Heart

Her favorite food was walnuts. From far away she could hear the snap of the lid and would rush over, sitting down quickly and looking up with an anticipating look in her big brown eyes.

Actually any time I snacked on anything she would do the same thing.

She really liked jumping on my bed at early hours and licking me all over my face. I would try to protect myself with my blanket but she would always find a way to burrow under and reach me.

Every time she jumped on my bed to take a nap she would go through a two-step process; first, roll around like crazy in my sheets, and then dig a nice little hole for herself under my blanket where she would stay comfortable, wrapped in a semi-U shape for hours.

Whenever she ate something hard she would crunch on it loudly with her mouth wide open. It was so cute.

She would jump up in a nanosecond when she heard the back door opening, either to say hello to the person who had just come home or to go outside. Whenever she dashed into the backyard she would find a little patch of sunlight and just lay there, looking around with pure content.

She loved playing tug of war with all her toys. She was always down to play fetch, no matter how far or quickly I threw her toy. I learned early on to only buy her toys that were made of rope and were durable--everything else she would tear apart. Vicious little thing.

Every time I got my car keys from the shelf she would know I was going out and would want to follow me to my car. She always knew when we were going to pick my brother up from school because all I had to say was, 'come on Nina,' and she would jump up from the bed.

She loved sitting in people's laps. Even when it was midnight, and she was sleepy, she would still rather stay in our lap than go to her own bed.

I loved when I would walk into the kitchen in the morning and see her peeking out from her bed. When she saw that it was me, she would run across the tile to greet me. She was always excited.

She would bark at something at least once a day, whether it was some insect or bird strolling around in the backyard or passing people and dogs in the front yard. She barked at stuffed animals. At ceramic turtles. At water sprinklers. We would yell at her to stop, without success. Fiercely loyal and really protective, not knowing her own miniature size.

She really liked being petted. When I would move my hand away she would try to stick her head under my hand again, demanding to be pet.

Whenever I would do sit-ups, she would think I was playing with her and try to bat at my face as I went up and down. It was very distracting. When I showed her I was serious about not playing around, she would settle down by sitting comfortably on my chest.

I loved coming home and seeing her scratch at the door, hearing her soft whines as I found my keys to get in. I loved picking her up with one arm, giving her kisses, and asking her if she had been a good dog while I was gone. I loved playing with her little paws, twirling her around and dancing because she was so agile on two feet. I loved sitting her down in my lap, hugging her like a baby, and gently petting her on the spot between her two big ears. I loved wrestling with her when she would bring her toys to me because she wanted to play. I loved her fearlessness, her excitement, her love for life, for food, and for her family.

I miss her so much.

Start Waking up at 9 AM

This morning Nina laid another poo in the house. For some reason, my mom went batshit crazy when she saw it. Her yelling woke me up and I ran out to see her aiming a fly swatter at our poor dog, who was emitting high-pitched whines in the corner of the kitchen.

I think my mom's been in a more irritated mood recently because she hasn't been able to find work. She's been at home studying for her GED and doing housework for about...6 months now. I've been free for about 3 days and I feel restless. The other realization I had has to do with my whole journey of self-reflection and finding ways I can be a better person. My mom brought Nina home because I had said I wanted a dog when I got back from China. Well, now she's here (not that I chose her, but I'm not complaining), and the person most responsible for training her would be me. Instead, I've dropped the ball. I was much more hard-working at the beginning, taking her out when I thought she needed to go, for example. I guess because I saw raising Nina as a family effort, so I thought I wouldn't have to walk her every day, potty train her, and clean her. Between my mom's screaming this morning and taking a walk with Nina to get away from her rage, I realized I am going to have to be more vigilant and consistent when it comes to training my pet. A dog can't be disciplined unless their owner is too.

On a brighter note, I feel like a kid who's been let out for summer vacation, even if it's just for a few days. I've picked up the guitar again. I learned how to play Ode to Joy last night. I've started reading things I've wanted to for a while but had to put off. I've had more time to exercise (BIG yay). I've also been revisiting good old Asian dramas. Never fails to be time-consuming. At the same time this would be the best time to get rid of my panda eyes, so staying up until 3 AM and crying my eyes out probably would not help...

Those Big Brown Eyes

I'm taking Nina to get spayed tomorrow and I am deathly worried. I know it's a normal procedure but she's so little...and frail...and afraid of strangers...what a horrible person I am for not feeding her breakfast and leaving her alone all day, drugged, cut up, with people she doesn't know. While she's gone her little whines are going to be echoing in my head.

Dear God, if I become a mother one day am I going to be one of those types that bundle up their children in 10 layers of clothing during the summer because I'm afraid they'll catch a cold?

Neeners

Nina came down with a fever yesterday because I let her out in the rain too long while taking her out to do her business. I was worried to the point of tears yesterday when she lay there, barely moving a muscle. At times she would let out blood-curdling high-pitched whines, like she was in serious pain. I didn't know what was wrong with her. Contrast this with lively, playful, hyper Nina who rarely stops moving and jumping. I know it was super paranoia taking over, because through the night I kept thinking, what if she doesn't make it? What if she's a dead doggy by twilight? It was such a relief, after 4 hours of sleep, to wake up and see her moving her eyes around even if her body wasn't. At the vet's office the doctor gave her some antibodies and a checkup. I had no idea the physical vulnerability of this poor little pooch. I felt so guilty while at the same time being sad that this ordeal had put a dent in my wallet--meds and office visit cost 73 dollars! A costly oversight indeed...But the good news is Nina will most likely be ok. She looked and seemed better today, so hopefully this recovery continues apace.

Before one begins to jump to conclusions about me being certified neurotic, there probably is a logical, psychologically-rooted explanation for my excessive anxiety. At least this is what I think. I don't usually get so ahead of myself when it comes to other issues. At the root of the problem, it has to do with my numerous short-lived experiences with pets. I must have had 4 or 5 puppies and/or dogs, all who met a tragic end less than a month of us owning them. Lucky was sent away because my mom couldn't stand him nibbling her plants (which she values more dearly than pets). Mimi died of a disease genetically transmitted by her mother. Peanut was sent away for the same reason Lucky was. And then I had an adorable mixed terrier whose name I forget, but she slipped under the gate and was never to be seen again. I guess through all this, my mom is partially to blame. These experiences have traumatized me such that I am horribly afraid any roaming insect eaten or rapid-fire illness will claim Nina's life, or that an unnoticed crack somewhere will be her portal to escape. I'm delirious aren't I?

That's the last time I take Nina out when it's raining. Her well being trumps a perfect potty training regimen.

Adjustment Costs

Back in LA, where...
I am no longer a pedestrian, but a driver
Space is no longer a luxury but a built-in feature
Shanghainese no longer punctuates the conversation around me
"Exotic" food like burritos are no longer a treasure hunt
I no longer have my bed to myself but instead have to share it


Meet Nina, a mini Pinscher. She is the smallest thing and I can easily pick her up with one hand. I researched the breed online and they are one of the most hyperactive, attention-seeking dogs out there. I don't think my mom did the research before deciding to adopt her from my uncle. My mom is also an elitist when it comes to dogs--she'll shun mutts from the shelter but oohs and aahs over Nina since she's purebred. So in the end, I didn't get to choose my pet, but this one is a handful so I think I'm good for now.

I finally had the meeting today I've been anticipating for...oh, about a year now. My announcement to quit has been made official, and it went over a lot better than I thought it would. The director was especially receptive, which I was pleasantly surprised about, because it's never easy breaking this kind of news to a program that has invested so much in you. What a relief--it really feels like a great burden has been lifted off my shoulders. A good indication that I made the right decision? But this also means I'm potentially working on a shorter deadline than I initially thought. I could be graduating in May, which is half a year from now. This puts something else on my mind...the prospects of being employed after everything is done and settled. Time to start job hunting now. Now...now...now...

Why is it so hard being an adult? I wish I was a child, or Nina, who plays around with chew toys all day and just snuggles up to nap in my sheets once she becomes tired.