It's funny. I never really know what I'm doing. I am always flying by the seat of my pants. Like, my whole life. When we got Temple, I sort of assumed she would be like Lola, because I have never owned another dog except Lola. And, I didn't really think. I just needed to get her out of the shelter. Temple doesn't cuddle like Lola. She has separation anxiety; I can walk out of the room for a couple of minutes and she will jump up and hug me, frantic, acting like I've been gone for ten years. But at night, she curls up on the end of bed. Tight, like a ball. Lola used to push me out of the bed, pressing up to me so hard that I broke my arm once, I fell out in the night. But Temple has extremes, heart pounding fear when we leave the room, and then independence when she knows that we are here.
"Lista, mamá." Joya announced, slapping her hand on the table. I burst out laughing, as she did. I thought she was being sassy, but it turned out, she was calling me mom, by accident.
I am struggling a bit. I want to be at my best with my students, myself and my dog and and my partner. My schedule at work is wearing me out, even though I am completely on board with teaching kids that are new to the U.S. They are actually the ones I wanted, all along. Maybe it's the short days. Maybe it's gross winter. I don't know. Maybe I just suck ass. I want to be the best I can be. Maybe I am being the best I can be. But, it's not good enough.
I watched Jon Stewart talk about the passing of his dog. It was so well articulated that it brought me to tears. I watched when his dog ran in the snow, with Jon Stewart saying "Get your ball," over and over again, while the dog ran and played in the snow. Alec told me that one of his best memories was one time, when he and Lola were walking together, in the snow, it was all silent and they just walked together. And it was beautiful.
"Ciao papa!" he yelled.
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