Tuesday, March 29, 2011

The stories we choose to tell...

Whenever I read a blog post written in a melancholy tone, by someone who is wearing their heart on their sleeve without telling you exactly what that is - I always wonder. What's the story?

The blogosphere is a stange place. Our faces are pages and our stories are the ones we *choose* to tell. It's difficult to read about sadness and not want to hear the backstory too. Our hearts ask: "Why?"

Earlier this month, I gave Princess Fur her spring haircut. In the winter, I keep her body fur long for warmth, but in the more temperate months, I groom her like the almost-show-dog she is. She always looks gorgeous and turns heads. She was a half-inch too tall to show, but she'll always be my champion!

Clipping the winter fur from her body is like shearing a sheep. It's fun! When I flipped her over to shave the fur from her underside, something didn't look right. There was a lump. On her lower ribcage. About the size of a golfball. As I held her in my arms, open and tender with her little exposed belly beaming up at me, heavy tears dripped down on the dog, my arm, the clippers.

I was so afraid. Little dogs are not supposed to have big lumps. Big lumps spell trouble. I was in the last days of the Big Busy before spring break, but as soon as I could, I made an appointment with the vet.

And then I waited. And waited.

This story has a happy ending: The vet did his examination. The lump is benign and harmless (and it's still there - now commonplace, instead of terrifying). The Princess received a clean bill of health. We practicallly skipped home, stopping through as many dog parks as we could find on the way.

But I haven't forgotten that terror of Not Knowing, so I've been spending more time cuddling, less time surfing. I've been blogging less, personal journaling more. I've been sharing my stories privately with friends via email and over lunch.

I'm still practising, as always. But the ins and outs of my yoga practice seem less important these days. I just do the practice and let it go. I'm less attached, but the focus of my attachment has just shifted.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad


Megan Walker said...

Wow. So glad to hear the Princess will be okay and sorry you had to endure those days of uncertainty. I know I'd be a wreck if I found a lump on my puppydog.

It can be tricky finding the appropriate balance of sharing and shielding when we use our blogs as emotional outlets in addition to practice journals and whatever else. I have often found myself recoiling in regret after having published posts of a personal nature, but ultimately I think it's healthy for us to be able to share these things with an open and largely anonymous audience. I guess it just depends on who we write for: ourselves or our readers? Or is it possible to write for both?

Liz said...

My eyes started to tear up as I read the story of your dear pup! I'm SO glad she's okay.

My boyfriend has his dog's hair cut short for summer too... it's hilarious and adorable. He goes from a beast (we call him Yeti) to a little lamb.

What do you mean, the blogosphere is weird?? I haven't noticed. (HA!)

Arturo said...

Dear Kai
I'm glad your pet is OK. I certainly one of those who sort of wears his heart out on his sleeve, but can't disclose, so does so privately :)

Cabbage said...

Whew, I'm s glad she's OK. That must have been terrifying for you... What a relief that it's benign!!!

Boodiba said...

I'm glad you got good news! I've got a friend who is treating her pitbull for cancer... I donated something to the cause. It's a very painful process for her, but she says he doesn't seem ready to give up yet.