I had my reasons for taking a break, some valid, some delusional.
“I’m starting a new blog and I’m not good at multitasking” falls into the valid category.
“I want to leave on a high note, with Frankie as a forever young — okay, perpetually middle aged — superstar” falls into the delusional category. On some level, I suppose I thought it would be easier to pretend tough things weren’t happening if I didn’t have to talk about them.
It turns out, not so much.
Getting a reality check is one of the reasons I’ve decided to return to the pet blogosphere, on an as-yet-to-be-determined basis.
Frankie and I have some unfinished business with you all.
First things first
Those “tough things” I’m alluding to: Frankie has Canine Cognitive Dysfunction, CCD, doggie Alzheimer’s… whatever you want to call being a bit out of it much of the time, although he’s generally in good health. Trying different treatments, attempting to adjust to his new circumstances (and mine), figuring out how to explain what’s going on to other people… all that is difficult.
So my goals are:
Taking back some sanity
One of the key reasons I decided to start posting again is that I need to air the crazy that’s been festering in my brain. When I’m not pretending tough things aren’t happening, I’m imagining that I have the power to prevent them or make them better. I’m convinced that I’m not doing enough, say, to reverse the laws of physics by turning back time.
I definitely need to re-enter my own guilt-free zone.
Giving back some information
During the year that I was away, I continued to get questions and comments on my Seven Canine Diabetes Myths post. I answered them all and was very pleased to be able to help.
I never wanted Frankie to be the poster dog for diabetes — as I wrote very early on, he’s a dog, not a disease — and I feel the same way about CCD. At the same time, if I can help others who are going through a similar experience, why wouldn’t I? These days I know a few things about CCD, even beyond the information included in the excellent article by Dr. Janet Tobiassen-Crosby that I solicited when my friend Clare’s late dog, Archie, was first diagnosed. I know more medical stuff, yes. But I also know first hand how it feels to live with a dog experiencing the syndrome.
And how it feels to live with an old dog, period. It occurred to me that I was being horribly ageist, implying that Frankie wasn’t worth writing about any more because he was getting on in years. We tend not to discuss old age in humans very honestly and it’s worse when it comes to our pets — in good part because we lack a clear understanding of what’s going on with them. I plan to share my findings.
I’d also like to provide a place for people who need to vent about what they are going through — or what they went through — during this phase, a safe haven for all kinds of feelings, the good, the bad and the ugly.
Okay, almost all feelings. If you’re seriously contemplating giving your dog to a shelter because you want a newer model, I really don’t want to know about it.
Returning to the community
I’m still feeling my way around here. I don’t know how often I’m going to blog, or how involved I’m going to get with various aspects of pet blogging. I’m not here for the pet products or the SEO.
I’m here to hang out with my peeps.
You guys get me, in all my Frankie-obsessed glory and misery. It’s been exciting to find members of my human family on Freud’s Butcher — which is still going strong; check it out — but I sometimes feel a bit like a misfit. You may not fit the standard genealogical definitions of kin, but you are my soul family, and you’re stuck with me as a member, for better or worse.