Finn has successfully barfed out enough vomit over the past five months to fill a generously sized bucket. Perhaps not quite a sea of vomit yet. But I hold confidence he'll get there soon enough.
Seriously though, I'm not complaining. If anything has stayed practically constant with this boy: it's his puking. Otherwise, he makes progress at a fairly steady (even if slow) pace.
For this last leave of absence: I'll form an apology. Upcoming holidays, events and, lets face it, work stress, got to me and whenever I would even attempt a posting, I would drop it there soon after. I have three drafts of blog-posts that never made the cut. They now sit idly by on my phone's notepad, ever waiting for a day when they might be called upon for use (not likely).
A lot has happened since last year that went unmentioned in my last post. I rarely get out of my house now except for doctor visits and work. It's only slightly depressing to me at certain times and has succeeded in making me a jittery wind up doll stricken with stir-craziness on those days that it gets to me. Because of this, I am trying to expand my horizon and get my butt on driving more (despite my absolute hatred for the activity which no one, except me understands. So none of that "just do it" crockery. "I no want my ears and eyes to be plagued by such drivel!" I says dramatically). Also, with the enlisted help of my brother, I'm trying to push myself in to hanging out with people (my age and around there) more often. Generally speaking: I'm not a people person. I'm what you would call an introvert. Being alone has pretty well suited me for my entire life, but then I've always had one or two friends (or Keith, haha) to grab for fun on the side.
That's where Finn comes in.I honestly didn't think getting a dog would really help me in the long run, even if I desired another animal companion in my life. But then I wouldn't have guessed that I'd become a ridiculous recluse either (well, maybe I did). Finn helps me get out of my own comfort zone, get out of the house and forget about worries while I play with him. It's much needed and appreciated. Earlier on this year though, I was having a difficult time adjusting to the whirlwind that is Finn. He's helped me and, like I said, I appreciate it, but I kept getting more and more discouraged of my own adjusting process rather than his.
While I took a couple of months off here due to events and life, I also took those couple to just allow situating; more for myself rather than for Finn.
With the ever-spiraling vortex that happens to be the dark-hole called my mind, I kept questioning my choice of adopting an animal. In short, I didn't "love" Finn like I do my cat (whom I've had since he was a tyke) and I didn't think it was fair to Finn.
(see? Lil baby Artemis. Isn't he the cutest?!!)
He never asked me to take him home. In fact, he ran in the opposite direction, which, if you've met me, can you blame him?
Finn doesn't make it difficult anymore in showing everyone how much he loves me, which in turn created an even bigger problem for me because I had enough sense to wonder if I loved him at all.
Sure, he's cute. I've only had everyone that crosses his path dribble on to me the extent of his absolute world-stopping, jaw-dropping, eye-popping cuteness as if I, myself, wasn't aware of this fact "cause you know, i didn't adopt him or anything" (okay, most people just state it, which is fine...but you always get those few). At the end of the day when it came to mind over matter: I still wasn't 'feeling' towards Finn. And that made me 'feel' like a load of muffins. Not good muffins, mind you. More like a turd muffin, to be more precise.
Often I thought about telling him I loved him like I did with Artemis (which came out automatically) just to see if maybe the expression of love would get something working, but then I'd retract the thought because it seemed like I was lying for the sake of making me feel better about myself. This planted an even deeper seed of self-loathing to which I attempted to ignore.
It also didn't assist me any that I continuously thought about how easy it had been for Emily to unconditionally love Finn. I admired her (past tense used, but I still admire her today) greatly for being able to accomplish what was and is such a harrowing feat in my eyes. Her ability to love so selflessly is a wonderful gift that I simultaneously do not possess. Seeing as I'm pretty much the total opposite, I take forever to form attachments to living beings in their entirety. One big mess up and that's pretty much it for me unless you try exceedingly hard to secure a second chance. In a way, I figure I've developed similar habits for animals. When I first received Artemis as a graduation present from my brother (yes, best present ever and I regret ever having this next thought): I didn't truly want him. I wanted him because he was cute (a kitten), helpless (a kitten) and needed a home (did I mention he was also a kitten?), but I wasn't sure I could handle the responsibility or the attachment of someone needing me, let alone a defenseless kitten. As I have done with Finn, despite that I wanted him in my family, I wasn't sure I could care for him or love him fully.
Eventually all these brooding thoughts conspired in destroying my confidence in adopting an animal or having ever owned one.
Until I finally had a talk with my mother.
Now let me just say: I'm so blessed to have her as she is absolutely amazing (despite that I can argue quite vigorously with her) and the only one around to ever listen to my complaints.
And, frankly, I just couldn't take it anymore.
I felt like poop. Royal poop. The Queen and King of all poops. I wasn't treating Finn badly. I still cleaned up his messes, took him outside and genuinely had fun playing with him while we were outside. I would still pet him when he became whiny and curled up next to me for attention. I never once hurt him, I never ignored him for a ridiculous amount of time. I simply just didn't feel like I cared for him in the way I did Artemis; which made me feel horrible.
As usual, my mother brought me back to earth, since I apparently love to float somewhere off in the third dimension.
She made an excellent point with my views. I've had Artemis since he was a baby kitten. Finn: only for a few months and he is essentially a full grown dog as we are not really sure of his age (the estimation was 2 years old, but it's anyone's guess). I've always owned animals as babies that I raised, never attempting to teach adjustments for fears or nervousness. Finn is a new experience and while I was more than willing to give him time, I wasn't giving that same respect to myself. Instead of pushing him to adjust to me quickly, I oppositely, unconsciously, pushed myself to adjust to Finn quicker than I should have. Which, in turn, caused me to take my own giant step backwards.
Perhaps Finn and I were better suited for each other than I previously thought.
In the end, my mother (I don't know what I would do without her) put my mind at ease. I stopped worrying about it so much and just decided to enjoy time with Finn, allowing the feelings to come out on their own time when they were good and ready.
Trust me, this story isn't all depressing! It has a happy ending...as far as this goes, at least.
Recently, I have caught myself telling him "I love you" a lot. Not forcibly, not out of habit, but, perhaps, a little admittedly out of accident. Which, for me, means it's honest feelings because I'm one of those oddballs that if I don't think about something consciously and just say it: I mean what I say (cause consequently I think too much and if I think I should say something to someone, then I shouldn't say it because I don't really mean it). Head spinning yet?
Today, I blurted I loved him a lot out of accident because of his hilarious actions.
My father, having turned the big five-oh today, had his birthday celebrated in a minor fashion like we usually do. Mom and I still had to go out and get his birthday cake and because Artemis was out of cat food, we decided to stop by Petco on the way (sorry Alexis! I would have come by PetSmart if we were out that way, I promise). So naturally, walking in to Petco, I wanted to buy Artemis and Finn everything. We ended up purchasing Finn a new harness for fear of him succeeding in chewing through his other one entirely, a couple of new treats, cat food and a cat toy.
(he looks handsome, yes no?)
As far as the cat toy goes: best money ever spent at Petco. It not only served as entertainment for Artemis as well as, surprisingly, Finn, but mom, dad and I.
(mouse on a shtick!)
Timid little Finn ended up stepping out of his shell and joining Artemis in play. Artemis wasn't exactly happy to share his toy at first, but he got used to it and eventually they were able to perform a grievously pathetic team of haphazardly working together. I'll give them props for trying, still that's no justification for their atrocious execution to capture and kill the toy.
Flipping the toy back and forth drove Artemis instantaneously in to hunter mode. Then when the toy would (of course, by my direction) land near Finn, Artemis would pause, seemingly contemplating whether he should venture so close to Finn for his new toy. This sudden drop in movement piqued Finn's sense of curiosity and he would attempt to quickly bite at the small mouse, only to just as quickly retract his head as if in fear of being bitten. If I kept the toy still, he'd repeat the process until I forced the toy to twitch, causing Finn to jump away in surprise. Once I began flicking the toy back and forth again, Artemis would take after it.
Occasionally, Artemis would bat at it with his paw whilst Finn was in the vicinity.
They're not the brightest crayons, but they certainly make my world colorful.
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