Francy Fancy Prancy Pants

Written December 15, 2009

The puppy arrived yesterday and the breeder said her name is Francis but I call her Francy Fancy Prancy pants. Looking at her I remembered that when I bought my very first house (because I wanted a dog) I had a moment of “buyer’s remorse” while sitting on my futon in my new living room with its’ high ceilings. On the phone with mom she said, “Remember how it felt to buy a sweater and then when you got it home you felt kind of bad?” “Yeah”, I mumbled back. “Well you just bought a fifty thousand dollar sweater” she said, and we laughed.

I woke up kind of feeling like that today “what was I thinking?” She’s a baby. Chewing tennis shoes, jumping up on the table, looking at me with these dark brown almond shaped eyes. No more lazy days. We took a nice short walk to the north end of Overlook Park this morning and she bound around. For some reason she is hesitant about walking through a doorway. She doesn’t know her name yet, but then neither do I. She doesn’t know what it means when I say “come” or “sit” but she a good eater. In the last twenty-four hours she has piddled slightly on the floor two times. She’s taken two poops outside and peed at least four times. Right now she is sleeping in her new crate and Luna is curled up in a ball right next to me. I wish I could take them to see a movie or to a restaurant. This must be how it feels to have kids. I am sitting on the sofa, watching as the pup itches at her hind quarters and yawns and tries to tear the carpet apart with her tiny teeth. Good times.

Today has been a solid day. I took a nap and ran errands, had a friend over for dinner and played a Banana Gram game despite the fatigue. Will I be bored and lonely tomorrow? I hope not. Mom is busy with a concert with Dell and then a party at his house. I’m going to read a book, practice yoga, meet my Uncle Karl, who is bringing me wood, let the dogs outside to pee, take a nap, write some shit down, relax my mind, dinker with my computer, watch 60 Minutes, eat for fuel (I miss my taste buds), I miss having a boy friend, I miss a sense of smell. I miss working. I miss having buckets of energy. I miss having sex. I miss being thirty. I miss the beach.

I had big fires all day to make the house warm, nice and for all I miss I had a very good day. Now it’s time to go to sleep. Hopefully to sweet dreams, not the kind where I didn’t graduate from school and have a midterm in an hour and haven’t studied.

I don’t know what her name is but, it’s not Francis.