Choosing to live authentically me

So a lot has happened in the last several months - year.

The job that I adored at the cafe, came to an end, when the cafe closed very unexpectedly. But I, thankfully, landed on my feet, when one of my previous employers made a spot for me in the small business that she owns.

The cafe closing left me sad, upset and extremely angry. I felt betrayed. When I think about how things went down I still have some hurt feelings. I'm owned a couple weeks of wages still and the owner is ducking my calls and avoiding me. I'm not even sure how I'm going to get my T4 for the time I worked there.

I slid into my current role with lots of apprehension and not a small amount of anxiety. Although I had worked for The Company before, it was in a role that was quite different to the one that I am now in. For several months I worked my new role and made up hours by performing my previous role as well. Eventually, The Company decided to hire me on full time in my new role as administrative assistant/manager. It's been a bumpy ride, but one that I've thoroughly enjoyed. I have a boss that is super supportive, who listens to my ideas and suggestions and who encourages me to get hands on and learn as much as I can. I am part of a management team that is truly a team. And I have a staff that I oversee that is diverse and varied. I'm helping to grow a business that I actually care about.

In the last several months, as I've settled into work and life as I know it, I've realized a few things.

1. It doesn't take much to make me happy.
At the end of the day, I'm happy as long as I can return home at the end of the day to my dogs.

2. I've rediscovered how much I enjoy singing.
I joined a choir! And I love it!

3. Spreadsheets bring me a strange amount of joy.
I love nothing more than the beautiful spreadsheets that I create and use at work. So organized. So streamlined. So much information contained in the them. *swoon*

4. Cooking is fun again.
Hello deliciousness!

5. People have faded out of my life and I'm learning to be okay with that.
People that I thought were good friends of mine, seem to have cut me out of the friendship that I thought we shared. I was hurt at first, but now it's faded to a dull ache that appears only when I actively think of them. Their exodus has brought new and better friends into my life. And I'm oddly grateful that the end of those friendships was the beginning of new friendships.

6. A good cup of coffee is the best way to start the day.
Especially early in the morning, before the dogs are walked.

7. Sitting at home with a glass of wine, reading a book is the perfect way to end the day.
Genre of book dictates the wine that is consumed.

There's Always Room for One More

Those of you that know me, know that I love dogs almost more than anything else in this world. I grew up with dogs, my parents instilled in me a love of them. So, I guess it's my parents' fault that I got involved with rescue. Although my mom will argue that an it's all because of one of my aunt's that I'm dog crazy!

My 'real' introduction to rescue was a gorgeous pitbull pup named Ruca. My good friend had 'rescued' her from a crack house. He saw her on the front porch with a man that was clearly high and not caring for her. My friend approached and complimented the guy on his pup. The exchange ended with my friend walking away with the pup, his wallet a little bit lighter. But his heart much fuller. Ruca was my introduction to pitbulls and how misunderstood they can be.

Later, when I discovered that I couldn't be without a dog any longer, my search for one began. I wanted what my friends had in Ruca - a constant companion, well trained and obedient, cuddly and goofy. And so I scoured the internet. I haunted the Kjiji and Craigslist listings, I Googled Ottawa area rescues. I wanted a dog and I didn't care about where it came from. Ideally, I wanted a pitbull pup. I hit a wall when I learned that these wonderful dogs have been banned in Ontario since 2005. Instead, I ended up with Remi.

Remi is a brindle mutt that captured my heart from the moment I spied him. His sisters galloped towards me; Remi checked me out and then casually made his way toward me. My heart belonged to him as soon as he planted his front paws on my legs. It wasn't much longer after that, that he was sitting in a friend's lap as we drove the three hours back to Ottawa.

My very own dog. Finally.

I filled my Facebook page and Instagram with pictures of him. I showed him off every chance I got. I answered questions from strangers on the street about where I got him. "What breed is he?" is a question that I got a lot. Lots of them were surprised when I said that he was from a rescue. "But he's so well behaved!" was the response I got to my answer.

Looking back, I shouldn't be surprised. Some people don't have a great perception of rescue dogs. But I am continually surprised by the questions that I field on an almost daily basis about my foster dogs. I've fostered two dogs to their adoptions. I've temped several others. And I'm fostering the most wonderful dog now, Nigel. Like my other foster dogs, he's a pit bull dog. He isn't available for adoption in Ontario, and while that's pretty terrible, I'm so thankful that I work with a rescue that values these misunderstood dogs and is willing to care for them while we find homes outside of Ontario.

When I first started fostering, many of my friends and co-workers thought I was crazy to bring an unknown dog into my home. They questioned how smart it was. What if it was sick? or vicious? or old? None of these concerned me. I was reassured by the foster coordinators that the dogs were assessed before they left the shelter and they were vetted; in short, there was nothing wrong with these dogs that love couldn't fix. Every dog that I have fostered has been a wonderful dog. There have been hiccups - Mango had allergies, Peyton needed to be housetrained, Nigel is fearful of everything - but the benefits have far outweighed the trouble.

And yes, it is tough to let them go. But every dog deserves a forever home. I cry a few tears when I get home without my foster. I crawl into bed with Remi and we cuddle. And then I get a message shortly afterwards, "We have a new foster for you!" and my heart leaps! I do a load of laundry and make sure we are prepped for the new arrival. And so the foster cycle starts again: the introduction between Remi and his new foster sibling; a walk with my new dog; a short run through of basic commands and before I know it- another wonderful dog is ready for their own home.

There is nothing wrong with rescue dogs. They aren't broken or unworthy. They deserve love and a soft bed. They deserve soft hands and cuddles on the couch; car rides to the cottage and so much more. So even though letting go means tears and a slightly bruised heart, it also means another wonderful dog gets a second chance. I'm so blessed to be part of a rescue organization. It's filled my heart and my home with love and joy and dogs.




*For more information about Sit With Me check out the website at www.sitwithme.ca. For information about the foster program email foster@sitwithme.ca. Sit With Me is a registered Canadian Charity.

On being considered dog crazy

I love dogs.

And I'm single.

A few days ago, an ever charming gent enquired about my romantic status. Hesitantly, (he is a semi-regular at the shop) I told him that I was single. Mistake number one. He leered at me, and asked what I was doing to rectify that. I sort of glared at him. Although I am single and (technically) looking, I am quite content to be single until I am no longer single. He laughed and said that I must have a couple of cats. My eyebrows shot up into my hair. Of all the stupid comments to make. I rolled my eyes and told him that no, I didn't have cats, I had dogs... two of them. Mistake number two. Which led to him declaring that I was dog crazy and would obviously be single forever.

Sigh.

I had to walk away. Yes, I have two dogs. And I love them. One is mine. The other is a dog that I am fostering for a rescue. And what does having dogs have to do with dating anyway?!

I guess in future dating adventures/attempts (online or otherwise) I shall refrain from mentioning my love of dogs, knitting and anything that makes me seem like a boring grandmother (which is something that a man called me when he asked what I like to do in my spare time).

Which makes me wonder, when am I going to meet a man who a) doesn't mind that I have a dog and foster another, b) doesn't mind that I spend time knitting, c) won't judge me too harshly for binge watching 15 seasons of Law & Order: SVU, and d) will let me listen to John Mayer without telling me that he's garbage?

Homemade Decongestant versus Life Brand Decongestant

I've spent the last 4 days home sick. There's nothing worse than being sick in my opinion. I hate it. I get cranky and grumpy, I can't breathe through my nose and I lose my voice. I develop a hacking cough that sounds kind of like a goose mated with a chainsaw. It's terrible.

I am also the person that will try anything to get over a cold/sickness faster. Homemade remedies, old wives remedies.... ANYTHING.

This time, I decided that I would make my own decongestant. I had read about them last year when I was sick, but I couldn't be bothered. This year... I decided I was doing it. I was all in. I found the recipe that I was curious about last year. Did some research on the ingredients and read hundreds of reviews of it. It seemed legit. I found the recipe on a blog called Titus2Homemaker. I figured any woman who willingly made and gave this to her children could be trusted.

I shuffled off to the grocery store. I bought the onions, lemons and the radishes. Honey and garlic. I got a lot of weird looks. I'm pretty sure the cashier thought that I was stoned. I shuffled back home hauled out the blender and mixed up a batch of this. I strained it, it's pulpy and gross looking. And although my nose was out of commission, my eyes functioned perfectly and they cried. A lot.

I quickly downed 2 tablespoons.

So. Much. Regret.

It was like my throat was on fire. My eyes were now watering for a whole different reason. I thought I was dying. After suffering through that, I sat down on the couch and waited for relief. And waited. And waited. And nothing.

The decongestant did nothing for me. I waited several hours to see if maybe it needed more time to work. I even took a second dose. After 9 hours of nothing I headed out to good ol' Shoppers Drug Mart to purchase some relief.

Lesson learned: not everything you find online works. Even if several hundred people say that it does.