You knew that...right?

I love my dog, Macy. She is the biggest boo-bear, with the sweetest disposition ever and I am so lucky to have her.

She had a cancer scare last year right before I deployed and *knock wood* she has been happy, healthy and cancer free since having surgery to remove the small tumor. Life is good. That said, she's an older dog already. At 11 years old, she has her little grey chin coming in, it's a little tougher for her to wake up in the mornings, and she isn't quite as sprightly as she used to be. She's getting kinda deaf too. All part of the cycle of life.

Last week she was lying in her bed, and she yelped. It was without a doubt a yelp of sudden pain. But she seemed to get over it quickly and we moved on. A couple hours later while she was just walking from the living room to the kitchen, she yelped again. After the 3rd yelp, I did a cursory check with my non-vet eyes and decided that, given her age and history, I should just take her in to the vet and have them take a look in case I am missing something. Don't want my moose in pain if she doesn't need to be.

I drop her off for her appointment today, and headed into work. A couple hours later I get a call from the vet. She has some degenerative joint disease in her knees and that is likely what was causing her the pain. Nothing a few days without walks and some rimadil won't fix up. Awesome. "And by the way", the vet goes on to say, "where she was shot might be giving her some problems too." Me: Um...excuse me? The Vet: "You knew that she'd been shot, right"? Me: Um...NO!? Like, today?!" The Vet: "No, no, it's an old injury but there are a lot of little bullet fragments around the area of her left hip."

My first reaction is just a pain in my heart. I knew that Macy had likely been abused as a younger dog. I rescued her from a shelter when she was around 3 or 4. About a month after I had her, I was getting a little tired of her going into the trash can and knocking it over for scraps. When I finally caught her in the act, I had rolled up a newspaper and whacked it on the counter and shouted "Macy, NO"! Never touched her. Never intened to touch her, either. But whacking the newpaper on the counter caused her to curl up into a ball, skulk over to the door trying to get outside and she peed on herself. This was OBVIOUSLY a dog who had been beaten into submission. Broke my heart in two. I ran over to her and gave her kisses and loving and apologized for hitting the counter (really?). But I didn't care what impression I may have been giving. I called my sister in law for advice on what to do now (since Macy is my first dog in LIFE). She told me, Liss, she's a dog. Get a trash can that goes under your sink. Problem solved.

My second reaction today was anger. Anyone who knows my dog, knows how sweet and sorta helpless she is under pressure. Who would do that to a dog? Any dog? But especailly MY dog. A dog that I have grown to love an insane amount. Who loves me and loves Eric unconditionally. All she needs in return is pats and food.

As the vet was showing me the x-rays today of her hip and the bullet and all it's fragments were still there lodged in her body, the reaction of heartbreak and anger came together. But in the end, anger won.

If the chicken-shit ass hole who shot my Macy all those years ago is still alive, I hope that someone shoots you in both of your knees, rendering you unable to run from the pack of angry pitbulls who can smell your blood as it pools on the ground around you while you scream in agony and they show you what being a carnivore is truly about.

Being an introvert

The other day I posted a status update on Facebook making mention of the fact that Facebook was great for us introverts. Because it allows us to interact with people without actually having to speak to them or be in the general vicinity of them. I don't quote this because it wasn't verbatim what I wrote, but close enough. The comments that were generated are what really surprised me, though.

I thought that most people who knew me realized that I was an introvert. I think that most people mistakenly assume that being an introvert was another way of saying "shy" or perhaps even as extreme as "anti-social". Neither of which are even remotely true. About me, or about anyone who is truly an introvert.

I stole these from Wikipedia: "Introverts are people whose energy tends to expand through reflection and dwindle during interaction". Oh yeah. All me. This one too: "...social networking sites have been a thriving home for introverts in the 21st century, where introverts are free from the formalities of social conduct and may become more comfortable blogging about personal feelings they would not otherwise disclose." Like, holy shit! I never read that prior to posting my status update. I just knew enough about myself to know it to be true. This one really brings it home: "Introversion is not the same as being shy or being a social outcast. Introverts prefer solitary activities over social ones, whereas shy people (who may be extraverts at heart) avoid social encounters out of fear, and the social outcast has little choice in the matter of his or her solitude." So there!

Introverts such as myself tend to not be people persons. I actually had a resume with that statement on it. "I am not a people person." I think it is pretty darn important that a potential employer knows that going in, because if they decide to put you in a customer service type of role, then they will find out pretty quickly anyhow and have no one to blame but themselves when things turn sour.

As an introvert, the time I spend with ME is truly wonderful. The time I spend with Eric is also wonderful, but I, as well as most introverts I imagine, do not require the presence of others to feel comfortable, secure, fulfilled or otherwise. Another advantage to being an introvert is that I can say with certainty that I have never felt lonely a day in my life. Ever. My mind is constantly engaged in thought. I theorize about everything. I am constantly working out things in my mind, coming up with answers to questions that I create. I am all about "why" and "how".

I will admit that although it has been several years now, that I didn't realize that I was an introvert until well into adulthood. It was during college when I took one of those Myers-Briggs tests for the first time when I realized that my personality-type actually fell into a 'category' at all. Most of my life I would just assume that everyone felt as I did and just faked it because that is what was socially acceptable. Ok, that wasn't the clearest sentence, so here is an example of what I mean.

Growing up friends would always want to go out to...wherever. A party, a club, a hockey game, other people's houses, wherever. I would go with when invited, because that's just what you did. But I would always be the one sitting, looking at the clock, wondering when an acceptable time to leave without appearing rude was going to be.

So back to my Myers-Briggs test...and forgive me as I think I have actually written about this before...but it tells you what your best professional fit might be to your personality category, and mine pretty much said that I needed to be a research scientist who worked alone on top of a remote mountain in Nepal. With the monkeys and whatnot. I distinctly remember being insulted at that answer but over the years, I realized that it was EXACTLY who I am. I would be willing to bet money that the majority of your scientists, researchers, philosophers, entrepreneurs, artists, and the like are introverts as well.

I feel like my introversion is a gift, quite honestly. It sure came in handy when I was deployed. When there was no TV, internet, or even power at times, my mind was a constant source of entertainment.

Seriously, though. I wish that more of my family had come to my defense when I wrote that status update. I think most felt I was being negative, but that wasn't the case at all. I was merely stating a fact. A fact about myself. One that I have learned to love and embrace! Lucky for me, Eric is a bit of an introvert as well. Not nearly as much as me, but enough so that he understands and loves me because of, and in spite of, it.