In June, when G and I decided to get Obi neutered, I wrote a blog about the constant reactions I received from MANY (and I mean almost ALL) Chileans with whom we shared our decision to neuter. I surrendered to the fact that my role as a responsible pet owner was once again more proof to Chileans that I was a "bicho raro" (odd duck) and that my poor proper Chilean husband must be the "pobrecito" (poor guy) who had no choice but to let his gringa wife have her way with their little pooch. (Incidentally, this is just one of many examples of gringa wife = bicho raro, Chilean husband = probrecito.) I must have given the speech about the benefits of sterilization dozens and dozens of times and of course, this was met with resistant, then skeptical eyes. In the end I always found myself frustrated and concluding "It's what we do where I'm from." It seems that was the only acceptable response that Chileans would accept. "Oooooh, right. It's a Gringo thing. You crazy, Gringos." The fact of the matter is that Obi was neutered, yeah it hurt and he was uncomfortable, but almost three months post-op he's fine! Here's proof, my dear skeptical Chileans:





I told you guys he'd be fine. And despite one of the RIDICULOUS reasons that many Chileans still hold on to as reasons for not sterilizing their pets, I don't think he understands the notion that he'll "never be a father" because, oh, he's A DOG!

Anyway, the point of of this blog is this: after some researching and reading, I've come to learn that there are many entities and people in Chile who actually favor the notion of responsible pet ownership. And because of this, I've decided that anyone who gives me ridiculous reasons for not doing so (an example of said ridiculousness noted above), will automatically be labeled as ignorant in my book. Call me extreme, call me rude, call me intolerant. I disagree with all three because the fact of the matter is that Chile, whether behind the times or not, is actually well aware of the need to be responsible ... it just seems that said knowledge needs to spread to the masses via communication and education.

Here are links to various interesting articles and websites regarding the topic of the stray animal population and the programs available to help dog owners be the best owners possible to their little furry family members:

• Sterilization programs in various comunas of Santiago (link)
  
• Article on the root of the stray animal over-population in Chile and why sterilization is better than elimination (link)
• Article on the Canine Sterilization Center in Osorno, Chile (link)
• Article on initiative to fine those who feed street animals in Valparaiso, Chile. Note that this initiative has since been suspended. (link)
  
• Financial Statement and information on campaign to save animals post February's earthquake "No los dejes atrás, ellos también son víctimas." (link)
• The rights granted to animals in Chile (link)

The fact of the matter is that right now the everyday reality I encounter in Chile shows that many people have got to get their act together on the topic of pets and the animal over-population in Chile's streets. But I have hope for the younger generations because Chileans are a smart bunch, savvy in many ways, forward-thinkers and progressive. Yet in so many ways, also quite antiquated (believe me, G and I run into people OUR AGE who still view the concept of "me man, work - woman, home good) and responsible pet ownership is one of those concepts that continues to just float about without any real place in the culture.

Case in point: G and I took Obi and his kids to Parque Bicentenario last Sunday, where we found ourselves in the midst of the "tiki-tiki-ti" (Independence Day) celebrations and park bustling with stands, activities, rides for the kids and people everywhere. Inside the area designated for pets to run around without leashes, there was a woman who was there with her own bulldog for the first time. We got to talking and in the next five minutes, I about keeled over in astonishment realizing that:

1. her bulldog was running around like crazy, something she thought was "great" since he spent so much time during the week indoors.
2. she didn't have water and because her bully was so thirsty, he was foaming at the mouth
   
3. she didn't have baggies to clean up after him, which was a problem when he suddenly stopped running to proceed to throw up due to over exertion.
   

Yeah this woman had a bulldog that had been gifted to her and yeah, she seemed to think he was great but the problem was apparent: she was pretty irresponsible as a bulldog owner. 1) bulldogs literally, physically cannot run around for long periods of times, even if they want to. There are many health reasons that back this up which I won't get into here but any proper bulldog owner would know this even by simple means of something called the INTERNET. 2) Bulldogs are drastically (almost annoyingly) sensitive to the heat and sun, even if it's not that hot. As a result, when outside, in the sun, an owner must ALWAYS have with him/her some water for the little piggy to drink. They get thirsty and they get thirsty fast. Obi can chug 2 liters of water like it's nobody's business on a typical park outing. 3) an owner of a dog (or cat) should be pretty aware of the cues that indicate that their pet is not doing well, in a similar fashion that a mother or father would be attuned to their kid all of a sudden feeling sick. At the very least, notice that you dog is not over exerted so that the poor little guy doesn't throw up?

Needless to say I almost b*tch slapped the woman for being so dumb and for being so oblivious. I immediately took the opportunity to point all of this out to G's daughter and told her the following "Having a pet is a responsibility and if you're going to have a special breed like a bulldog, you need to make sure you know the dog's limitations so that he can live a happy life." Even G's daughter, who is 8, understood that bulldogs can't run around for extended periods of time.

I don't know if it's the culture or if it's Chile's obsessive focus on the children's welfare that makes for the myopic view of topics regarding animals (and the environment, while we're at it!) Maybe it's neither and it's just a geographic obstacle, in that Chile is literally so far away from so many other "developed" countries and that it's surrounded by geographic barriers (Andes and Pacific Ocean) that the information and tendencies are delayed? Or perhaps it's none of the above. In any case, if there are people as dumb as those who reprimand me for neutering Obi and people like the woman mentioned above who didn't have the slightest idea of what it meant to be a bulldog owner, I believe that times are changing and Chile is evolving when it comes to animal rights and education to the masses on the responsibility of pet ownership. It's time for the masses to stop playing dumb regarding the topic of responsible pet-ownership and the topic of the over-population of dogs and cats in the country. If parents-to-be educate themselves on all things involving children and newborns, if someone who's about to buy a car will read every article and book about how to care for the car so as to assure it's longevity, if people study the last financial statement of a company they are interviewing with in order to gain a competitive advantage in the interview process, what would it take for these same people to learn a bit more about the benefits of protecting and enriching the lives of animals?

I wonder.

Labels: dogs, Obi wan Kenobi

During a time when the country - no, the world - is obsessed with balls and where they can go (i.e. World Cup fever), I've had a ball-centered weekend myself. Except my weekend has more to do with the REMOVAL of balls. That is, my dog's balls (to my more conservative readers, sorry for such a crude way of putting it!)

Last Friday, G and I had Obi fixed (neutered). While we're completely and totally ok with this decision, it's been a mini ordeal in Chile, a country where neutering a male pet is simply unheard of. Even G wasn't too keen on the idea when we first got Obi so my mission was clear: at least in our home, in our own way, we'd do what we could to be responsible pet owners and do our share to help control the pet population in Chile. It's easy to shrug off the responsibility of helping the pet population (in both dogs and cats) but the reality is that said responsibility starts with each and every pet owner.

So when I set out to "convince" my dear husband that neutering our male pet was the best option, I did my research. According to various reliable, online sources (such as The Humane Society, ASPCA and the likes), these are the most convincing reasons (in my opinion) to fix your pet:

1) Neutering your pet can help it lead a healthier life and in males, eliminates testicular cancer.

2) The female dog won't go into "heat" and the male dog won't feel inclined to wander away from home (in search of said female dog in heat.) The overwhelming sexual urges just don't kick in and your dog is free to be your dear, sweet, family pet. Isn't this the reason you got the dog in the first place?

3) A neutered male dog will be much better behaved because they focus their attention on their human families. On the other hand, unneutered dogs may mark their territory all over the house.

4) Many aggression problems can be avoided by early neutering (Obi was neutered at six months, the earliest recommended age to neuter pets.)

5) Finally, the most important reason: everyday, animals die because there is no one to care for them or are killed by euthanasia because no one wants them. There is simply no excuse for allowing pets to breed unless one is a responsible breeder who knows what he/she is doing!

With all this, G was of course convinced. He let go of the learned reaction he had for so long as a Chilean who grew up in Chile: it has nothing to do with being more manly or less manly. It's a dog, for Pete's sake! We are not removing the MAN'S testicles, we're asking a professional to remove our pet's testicles for the reasons stated above. Further it's not "cruel" of us to "deny" him the experience of a sexual encounter or the experience of being a father. Again, he's a DOG!! He still has his penis and as far as we can tell, it works despite the neutering! Furthermore, having done our research, we know that this particular breed (bulldogs) don't innately pursue procreation. Most female bulldogs needs to be artificially inseminated because it's not part of their DNA to go around shacking up with every dog they see!

My dear husband is a smart guy and with proper research and argument, if someone's right, someone's right. In this case, I was right and once we had this important discussion, not only was he convinced it was the right thing to do with Obi, but he defended (and continues to defend) this decision to every person who has something negative to say about it.

But frankly, I'm SO SICK of the weird looks, shocked questions and concerned expressions some Chileans continue to give me. Today in the elevator my neighbor made a comment about how "particular" Obi was being because he was barking at her. I told her he had just had surgery. When she and her son asked why, I debated on what to say ... finally I just said "I had him castrated." Their looks were priceless. I'm sure that they had a field day forming a very vivid picture of what my family life with G was like ... I was very proud of myself for causing such shock to my fellow (narrow-minded) neighbors but quickly found myself EXPLAINING why I had done it (basically "blamed" it on cultural differences and that where I was from, fixing a dog was considered normal.) In any case, they continue to think I'm a weirdo and I'm sure I didn't help in easing their opinion that my dog is "weird" too.

Just for the record, my fellow Chileans who think this is such a horrible thing to do to a dog, Obi's a-ok. In fact, the only thing that has him feeling less than stellar is the pain medication. We quickly discontinued it, of course and now he's on his favorite rice and chicken diet.

Of course, immediately AFTER the surgery he looked like this:



In his e-cone and doped on his recent dose of anesthesia, he looks like a pot head, druggie dog! He was super uncomfortable and couldn't find any way to sit ... but he's since then conquered the situation and he's looking more like this:



He's laying low, not really going outside and chilling with me and G in-house. AND he's not even noticing the operated area ... some websites indicated that he might lick or scratch the site, but he hasn't and he doesn't seem to be feeling any kind of pain. He's running and jumping and eating (now that he's off the pain meds).

G and I are happy with our decision and we know that in the long run, our little guy will lead a healthier, happier life as our dear family pet. Yeah, I'm still super annoyed with the majority reaction here but it doesn't make what we did less appropriate. We're being responsible and we're assuring our dog's happy life from now on.

The question is: are you doing the same for your pet?

Labels: dogs, Everyday life, Obi wan Kenobi

No, I'm not PG.

So while we’re on the subject of kids (from my mention on the previous blog post), I thought it would be a really good idea to officially document how I feel about the little earthlings now that I don't actually have any.

This is kind of like a list I made back in the day on a regular piece of paper that I can no longer find … grrr … it basically listed bullet points of the different things I hoped to accomplished 1 month, 3 months, 1 year, 5 years, 10 years and 15 years from when I started the list. I was 25… so you can understand why I’m so annoyed I can’t find it! I’m almost at the 10-year point! I hope I’ve accomplished something!

Anyhoosers, my point is that I’d like to document how I feel about the idea of kids and my thoughts on having them or not having them. Someday in reading this entry, my daughter/son might hate me. If that’s the case, err… sorry kid. I can’t help that I have very extreme and sometimes conflicting views on procreating today in March 2010.

Here’s my first thought on the matter: once the kid is here, it’s here for good (barring any atrocious event that I don’t wish on anyone.) In general, the kid is here to stay. That means that FOREVER MORE you have to worry about this other living, breathing thing. I mean, if I have to work around my day in a way that has me home each time Obi needs to eat then I can’t imagine what it takes with a kid! I already feel constricted with Obi and it drives me insane!! Further, you never stop worrying about this being… so it’s like a lifetime of this WORRY you carry around with you. I remind you of my entries regarding G’s kids after the earthquake here in Chile … I mean G was worried sick even though he tried to play it off. For days on end and I wondered how he even functioned!! If that were me, I’d be freaking the F out!! I know myself and I do NOT handle freaking out well. I’m worst-case scenario woman in my head and if I had a kid to add to that equation, I could very well live a lifetime of hyperventilation due to stress. Yeah, that sounds fun.

Putting aside the "WORRY FOREVER" sign up sheet, here's my second thought on the matter: pretty much you're responsible for how adjusted or f-ed up the kid is going to be and if he/she grows up to be a contributing, happy person in society. I mean, how many people do you know that are so screwed up because of their parents? I definitely know a few and may count myself in that group every so often. What if you put your kid in too many activities after school in hopes of keeping him/her away from drugs, only to produce an overachiever perfectionist who is anorexic and much too hard on him/herself and deals by cutting his/her arm? Is that worse than drugs? Ack! And for that matter, what's the right balance of activities? Teach them two languages, put them in a sport and in an art, teach them to meditate and do yoga, all the while taking them to a hill with lots of grass to run wild in, every other day of the week? Will my kid turn out ok then? Should I throw in some Tae-Kwon-Do too? Yeah, yeah, kids don't come with manuals, blah blah. So then of course, more pressure on the parents!

My third thought on the matter is this: I really love Obi. I wouldn't give him away at this point, sell him or try to pawn him off in any way, shape or form now that he's part of our small family. However, I recognize that life before him was much easier and much more comfortable. I realize as well that if I knew then, what I know now, I don't think I would have acquired him in the first place. Having a dog is a BIG DEAL, more than people think ... so I can't BEGIN TO IMAGINE the big deal that is a kid. Yet I take extremely good care of him, train him, love him, feed him and do all the basic necessities necessary, spoil him and cuddle him ... but that doesn't change the fact that I see him and think "Life was much easier and maybe better (still undecided) before." Can you imagine if I feel this way with a human being who relies on me for survival and guidance? Hello, insta-bad parent - just add water!

My fourth thought on the matter relates to G and the fact that he has two children from his previous marriage. The person I love already has kids and has experienced first hand all the joy, excitement and fear that goes along with having kids. In fact, he's even more experienced in basic things like changing diapers and burping (not to mention all the other crap that I can't even think of because I'm not a parent and have NO idea) than I might ever be! He's been there, done that. When I go through the "Holy sh*t I'm a parent" freak out/realization, I'll be alone. I'll basically be going through all those sentiments solo and that kind of sucks. It's not his fault of course. He adores his kids, rightfully so, and I adore him for being a good father to his kids.It makes him a better man and I wouldn't have it any other way. But it does affect how I view becoming a parent, I'm not gonna lie. Any maybe it's my own version of being screwed up by a parent, but I never had a father in my life and the man who IS my father, played favorites with my sister and me. Meaning, he ignored me my entire life and was present for my sister. So in my head I can't imagine that G could love any other kid more than he loves his own right now. Call me crazy - I might be. But it's how I feel at times and it's stuff I think about.

Not all is tainted in such a negative light when it comes to kids, though. I've experienced first hand how much joy they bring to a parent's life and to life in general. I've seen it with my mom and how happy I make HER. I've seen it with G and his kids and how absolutely happy they make him. I've seen it with my sister and my nephews and I've experienced it personally with family friends and their three daughters. Point being, I'm not stupid. I GET how having a kid is SO WORTH IT to some in many, many ways. The stress, the worry, the pressure - all of it is worth it and they'd do it all over again, time and time again. I get that and I totally respect that. After all, without parents who feel just that, where would we all be? And personally, I've never met anyone in my entire life that I'd want to have kids with more than G. He's it - the King Bee - the creme de la creme - Mr. Right and I will look no more. That's how I feel about him and so obviously having a family with him, IF I DISREGARD ALL FOUR POINTS ABOVE, seems like a no-brainer. It's an immediate "duh! Of course!"

Ah, but that's the catch, isn't it? Putting aside all the insecurities, all the pre-conceived notions, all the ideas that your kid won't be good enough. Shelving them and deciding to go on with your bad self. I'll most likely have a kid or two, I'm not gonna lie. Yeah I'll admit already that my life is easier without them ... but with G by my side, can it really be that bad? I think not.

Labels: future, G, kids, Obi wan Kenobi

I can't imagine I'll ever be wired to be a stay-at-home mom. I used to be pretty sure this was the case but since I've moved to Chile I'm 100% convinced. It's confirmed now that the housewife role - and even pseudo housewife role I currently live - is for the birds.

Right now I say that I'm a pseudo housewife because I'm the one who stays home, while G leaves the house to go work. Granted, I work too, but since I work from home, I basically set my own schedule. Meaning if I want to work 8 am to 5 pm or 1 pm to 10 pm, it's my call. I think that as long as my work gets done AND I'm easily accessible to those who need me, then I can basically do that. It's a cool gig but it comes at a price as well. I'm the one who's home ... which means I'm the primary caretaker of Obi, our bulldog puppy. I'm the one who works with the trainer and makes sure our dog is forming into an acceptable and agreeable member of society. I'm also the one who does laundry ... why? Again, I'm here. It doesn't take much to just put a load in, come back to my computer, then put the load in the dryer and come back to the computer again. It's either that or the clothes just piles up and up and up until the weekend (or evenings at some point.) Who wants that? I'm also the one who primarily cooks. Why? It's really a last resort because I'm not familiar with take out places in Chile, besides sushi and going out to dinner every day is $$$ and bad for the waistline. And again, I'm the one who's home. I'm here when the nana comes every Tuesday to clean - that's sweet! Less cleaning for me. But I'm also the one who has to direct what needs to be done in the house. Why? Because I'm the one who's home. And in all fairness it's probably best that way since I'm the pickier of the two of us in regards to how I want my home to be/look/feel. In between nana visits, I'm also the one who cleans ... mainly after myself and my dog, but still.

So let's see here: I have a kid (kind of. It's a puppy but it feels like a kid), and do all that's involved with having said "kid," I cook, I clean, I work, and I'm at home almost all day, everyday. And I have the new state of frumpiness to prove it! Honestly, if it weren't for the fact that I'm about to start graduate school and I'm planning a wedding, I could very well be depressed.

Which has me wondering ... will this be my constant state of being forever??

Obviously not...that's just me freaking out with that last sentence. The mere fact that I'm going back to school will certainly snap me out of this state of semi-consciousness. I hope that it helps me be a contributing member of society as well. Nothing is worse than being stagnant and not moving forward.

It's also hard to watch G go out and be the awesome baller that he is, while I am here at home. Maybe it's a case of not giving myself enough credit for the job I do with the company I work for, or maybe it's because he's just in a different reality than me and I kind of envy that. Living here in Chile I'm feeling that it's harder to grab the world by the balls like a man would. Maybe it's because I don't see many of these women around me on a day to day basis and the ones I can think of are gringas (yay! Represent!) I know this is just setting the stage for me to go out and become the youngest female VP for Chile's #1 consumer products company (whatever that is) ... but in the moment, I feel far from that.

If I were to add kids to this mix, I'd take a long walk off a short plank. I know I should feel a little more gung-ho about having kids but let me tell you, I'm not feeling the gung or the ho. But I'm 33 and time's a tickin' ... and I think, well, I don't NOT want kids ... and I kinda do like the thought of kids .... so ....at some point in the next couple of years I"m going to have to walk down that road... but if it means staying at home with all of the above PLUS A KID ... I can't imagine I'll be a happy camper.

Oh well... at least I'll look the part. I'm already uber frumpy, with split ends, roots grown out about an inch, bad toenails, worse hand nails, bad, dry skin and a unibrow anyone would envy. My daily outfit is jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops. Oh, I do manage to put some make up on though, that's a plus. Hmmmm, then I imagine that an offspring would result in me with no make up on my face and about 20 pounds overweight.

Sweet. Can't wait.

Labels: depressed, Obi wan Kenobi, resolutions, world domination

Sweet BeJeezus, that was scary!!

I'm not talking the "normal" kind of earthquake scary either ... the kind I knew before today. After living in the SF Bay Area for over 29 years, I thought I was pretty accustomed to feeling the ground move every so often.

But no matter how accustomed you think you are ... nothing prepares you for 2+ minutes of NON-STOP 8.8 ground movement and subsequent shaking, thundering, crashing and breaking that occurs with it.

Obviously we were in bed, G and I... and actually I had just gotten into bed after a bathroom break (TMI). I was commending myself and my dog for breaking the 3am barrier - i.e. the dog has stopped waking us up in the mornings whining from boredom. It was 3:15 am, baby was tired and we had a full day of wedding planning ahead of us...I closed my eyes, ready to enter my sweet lull.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand cue in the earth rolling ... like riding a wave, I imagine. Except being from an earthquake zone (SF Bay Area) one always first determines if the quake is going to stay put or suddenly get all agro on you.
In the most abrasive of manners I jolt G up with "It's an earthquake." He sits up with me to proceed with the analysis: is this going to roll along like this or is this going get ugly?

OH. And then it truly got UUUUUUUUUUUUGLY. Now, mind you, at this point we've been rolling along with the wave for a good 30 seconds and as each 15-second interval ticked by, the once-rolling motion proceeded to turn into sharp movements, jolting us back and forth. We live on the 11th floor, the topmost floor of our building, and since buildings in Chile are "earthquake ready," on the top floor you tend to feel each and every roll and jab TIMES TWENTY. And the thing is, the quake didn't stop... it didn't ease up or roll into a slow sweep... it not only kept going but it kept getting STRONGER AND STRONGER as each second, then MINUTE, ticked by. One by one I could hear things from other rooms crash to the floor; glass breaking, water splashing; thud, thud, crash, thud, shatter...and alongside those noises you hear the immense, RAW POWER of this monstrous earthquake that's taking you on this SOOOOOO-unsolicited ride.

I was at the door frame, holding on until my fingers hurt ... G was across from me in the bedroom holding our TV in place so that it wouldn't fall on our puppy below (who by they way, was FREAKING OUT.) I remember thinking "it's going to stop... it's going to stop, it HAS TO STOP, it's been so long" and realizing that the quake just kept going and going and getting stronger and stronger. At which point I seriously, cross-my-heart-stick-a-needle-in-my-eye thought to myself "Oh my God, I'm going to die in this earthquake. This building is going to fall and we're going to die." And NEVER, EVER have I had a thought like that, where for a second it was this peaceful-type realization that "this is it."

And then, of course, thank God, it did stop. And that's when the panic set in.

Our mom's live in the next "comuna" over, each in her own apartment but in the same building. Once I realized we were ok, all I could think about was my mom and her insane fear of earthquakes ... and the fact that she was alone. Quickly, G and I got dressed, grabbed the dog, ran down eleven flights of stairs IN THE DARK, dove into the car and raced through disabled stop lights to get to our moms' homes. Our moms where upset, of course, but once we got there and everyone was gathered outside, there was a sense of security. Unfortunately that security didn't lend itself to the other issue at hand: mobile phone connections and land lines were collapsed and G's kids were outside Santiago with their mom. For more than two hours G tried to get through just to make sure his kids were ok--> and NOTHING. No calls were getting through. He finally decided to drive the hour and a half drive to where they were - not that he had clear directions on how to get there (he was working off memory). 40 minutes later he calls me to tell me that he can't get through... the roads were closed due to collapsed overpass pedestrian walkways and crumbled pavement that ran for stretches at a time. I can't imagine the torture he was going through not knowing if his kids were ok ...and it was torture for me to know there was nothing I could do to help... [Update: his kids ARE ok and yes, he was able to talk to them. They're shaken and freaked out, but ok.] In the end he came back to my mom's apartment ... by then, none of us had eaten for over 12 hours and we certainly hadn't slept. But the sun was up. It was morning. Electricity was back at my mom's house. Those three things combined brought some feeling of security back. So we packed up our dog, his things, my mom (who came over to help clean up) and we headed back home, ready to face the mess that we briefly saw on our way out at 4 am.

Considering how fierce the earthquake was and how intense it felt, I'm surprised we didn't have more damage. At most we lost some cool picture frames. At best we have a crack going down the wall of our apartment's foyer to forever remind us of this atrocious event. We have friends here in Chile who live waaaaaaaaaay higher up than we do and the damage to their apartments was far worse ... not so much in terms of structure (like I said, Chilean buildings are "earthquake ready" thank God) but in terms of stuff thrown everywhere! We were spared, I think. In more ways than one.

The table in the front foyer, as you walk into the apartment. Plant and picture frames on the ground; area rug soaked. The crashing of this vase to the floor was not a welcome sound during the 'rolling-with-the-homies' episode.



The scene as we walked in to the dining room/living room area. Picture frames, meet the floor. Charmed, I'm sure.



This was a fun sight ... our yet-to-be-thoroughly-paid tv toppled over. That's the center table leaning in to kiss it hello. [Btw, we now know the tv is fine. And she's ok!]



And my office... which actually, now that I think about it, kind of always looks like this. Maybe slightly less messy.



In the end, my review for "Earthquake Chile 2010" is a big, fat, thumbs down. Please don't ever let me/us have to go through another 2.5 minute event that has us literally holding on for dear life. I'd like to take a "pass" on the aftershocks that continue to shake the city (and the country for that matter), most of which feel as if they're 5-6 points, given how high up we are. But on the other hand, I was amazed at how the Chilean people came to one another's aid in this crisis - even if it's to merely ask "hey, how are you?" (Which, by the way, is precisely what our neighbors did after the shaking stopped.) There's security in talking about what you went through and a feeling of safety in knowing that others went through the same thing. And I do have to say that the outpouring of concern and well wishers on my Facebook page was humbling. While I would rather never again have to go through what we went through at approximately 3:30 am Chilean time today, it serves to remind me how forever grateful I am... and in this case, I'm grateful that we survived.

Labels: 2010, apartment, earthquake, G, Obi wan Kenobi

I've never looked or felt frumpier. You know those new moms that you see walking down the street and you think to yourself "Geez sister, pull yourself together. A little eye make up would work wonders on you right about now. And while you're at it, pull that scrunchie out of your hair." I'm on the receiving end of that. For the first time in my entire adult life, the roots of my hair are over two inches out. In fact, my hair is about two months overdue for even a haircut! ... ask any of my close friends if that's normal for me and they would assure you that you're talking about someone else. I was formally known as the persnickety old aunt-type who liked to point out when someone needed to hit the hair salon STAT. I felt like I was offering a public service, really. Well the irony is that now, I'm that person I used to call out. Oh life, how you mock me! (and while we're on the topic, hi uni-brow!)
And don't get me started on my nails, both hands and toes...or the fact that I haven't dressed up and worn any type of heels in daaaaaaaaaaays (to be read, "months").

In a way, I am a new mom with the arrival of Obi-wan Kenobi on the 12th of this month. And I'm not sure having a puppy is all it's cracked up to be. First of all, he surely hates me. I'm not sure why he doesn't like me but he's taking to growling at me (the mean kind, not the playful kind I keep reading about) and, of course, he's taking to biting me. Let's add that to the fact that I spend about 8 hours a day cleaning his waste so that he's not running around in filth, making sure he has clean water, trying to remember to feed him every six hours, attempting to keep him clean, trying to train him to be a proper dog in a few months AND all the while waking up at 3 am EVERY morning because of his cries/whines. Of course I get myself out of bed and play with him and cuddle him as much as I can so that he feels secure and loved...And the thanks I get for all that? Bites and growls. Forgive me if for the time being I'm not quite understanding the whole "man's/woman's best friend" bit. I'm not saying that getting him was a mistake because I do have faith that things will get better. When he's a little older and outgrows this stage he's in, coupled with being able to take him outside so he can run free and mingle with other dogs (he doesn't have all his shots as of yet) I really do believe that life will be pleasant. That's part of what motivates me to keep training him, to keep teaching him right from wrong, to keep trying to make him a happy, well adjusted dog. But right now it's no picnic. In fact, it's downright dreadful.

I'm allergic to him, did I mention that? Yeah, I break out into hives whenever I hold him. I was having breathing issues too for a bit but then started taking Allegra AND we bought an air purifier with HEPA filter so things on the respiratory end are much more pleasant. For the hives I'm using a cortisone cream but unfortunately I can only apply it for a week ... that means until today since a week ago I went to the doctor for said prescriptions that enable me to be near our puppy. Here's a pic I took yesterday ... this is WITH the cortisone cream. Though in its defense, I did initially fail to apply it to this region ...



In case you haven't noticed the tone of this post, I'm feeling slightly depressed and glum. This is why I closed comments on this particular entry. There's no need to tell me that you relate to me, that you understand or that you're sorry. Also there's no need to tell me I need to snap out of it and stop feeling sorry for myself. I know all of the above and really, do appreciate any sentiment or time taken to express that sentiment. I'm really writing this because I simply just.felt.like.writing. After all, it's one of my 2010 proposals/resolutions so I thought it to be quite appropriate.

My wedding is in less than two months and I feel like things are wrapping up nicely. Summer is coming to an official end here in Chile so I hope that means that vendors are finally going to be responsive and available. Though here's a typical story... in November G and I went to the place where we want to get our cake and they told us that we were seriously too early to begin planning for the cake and that we should come back in February or March. All righty. So I called yesterday to ask about going in for the tasting and after answering the "when is your wedding" question, I'm met with:
"Oh honey, you should have come in a while ago! We're taking orders already for next year! What are you waiting for?"

FML and F-them.

Needless to say we're going this weekend.

But I have to say, despite all the planning and all the hoopla surrounding me in regards to weddings (two friends here are getting married in a couple of weeks, within a week of one another), I continue to feel like my own personal wedding is this event I'm planning in general and that I'm just attending as a guest. Like my own party I guess, but nothing major. In part I'm thankful for this feeling because it means I'm not stressing over details. Another part of me feels as if I'm cheating myself though! For myself personally, I pretty much have nothing. I don't have a bouquet, I don't have shoes, I don't have "something blue" and I don't have accessories. Yeah I have a dress and yeah, I like that dress, but it's certainly not the over-the-moon sentiment I thought I'd have about my dress. It's nice, I like it, I guess I look ok in it and that's about it. Something tells me that's NOT NORMAL!!!

The only constant is G and how much I love him and how much I love our life together. There's no one in this world I'd rather be with and no one who could make this depressive, blue state I'm in even remotely worth treading through. But all that other blue stuff makes me kind of numb... similar to the affect my skin has with the cortisone cream.

In general, sometimes my life in Chile feels like it's smothered in cortisone cream. I walk around not really being a part of this society and culture. I guess that sounds weird to those who don't know how the stuff works. It's more of a personal observation, I guess. I have a lot of them because when you don't really integrate well in a society, you mostly live in your head... which later results in diarrhea of the fingers on a keyboard within a blog entry.

Labels: 2010, depressed, dogs, G, Obi wan Kenobi, resolutions, wedding

G and I have found ourselves welcoming a little bundle of joy and thankfully it's not a result of me being pregnant and carrying a human life for nine months. No, no. Contrary to that nightmare, we're excited that in about a month we'll be welcoming a little English Bulldog puppy into our urban dwelling here in Santiago.

Everyone, say hello to Obi-Wan Kenobi.


I mean, he's pint-sized and I'm not exaggerating when I say that in several pictures I have with him, he makes my hands look like ginormous man-hands. It happens when you're all of 28 days old, as he was in this pic above.

Chile is quite the dog lovers country. In fact, in that sense I truly equate Santiago with New York City, where everyone has a dog and most housing is dog-friendly because, truly, there is no other option than to accept the furry friends. (I say this because San Francisco was certainly not a dog lover's city...not unless you owned your place.) The difference I see between Santiago and New York in this sense is that in NYC I see dogs as more personalized, where most dogs truly do 'match' their owners and where dogs are pretty much divas in their own right in some way, shape or form. In Santiago, well, that's not so much the case.

Isabelle Allende wrote an exaggerated version of dogs in Chile in her memoir "My Invented Country." She writes:

"In our house, as in every Chilean home, there were animals. Dogs are acquired in different ways: inherited, received as a gift, picked up after they've been run over but not killed, or because they followed a child home from school, after which there's not a chance of throwing them out. This has always been the case and I hope it never changes. I don't know a single normal Chilean who ever bought a dog; the only people who do that are the fanatics of the Kennel Club, but no one takes them seriously. Almost all the dogs in Chile are called Blackie, whatever their color, and cats bear the generic names of Puss or Kitty."

Note that G and I are automatically not considered "normal Chileans" in Allende's mind since we're actually purchasing Obi-wan...Obviously it's her memoir, her nostalgic view of what she remembers Chile to be like and of course that gives way to the almost ridiculous exaggeration describing dog acquisition as noted above. I do agree that most Chileans don't buy their dogs and that yes, they are somehow "adopted" or become part of the family in a very seamless, more organic way than how Obi-wan Kenobi will come to us. And usually when this happens, the dogs aren't 100% of a certain breed but rather, a mix of one breed with another. Though I do know that the opposite has become more and more true: one family who has a certain breed (more likely than not, a poodle) finds another family friend with the same breed (and opposite sex), mates them and wa-la!! - a litter is born! These are then either 'sold' or simply given away to friends and neighbors. Those are the two ways that Chileans typically welcome dogs into their home and as such, there has certainly been a deviation from what Isabel Allende remembers. I personally think that the first method is noble, generous and humane and that the second method is ever-so-slightly irresponsible. The whole notion of giving a dog as a gift to people who aren't prepared to have a dog just blows my mind ... but that's six of one and half a dozen of another, as a friend's grandmom would say.

G and I have met with the same question over and over again when we tell friends about Obi-wan. They (mostly the Chileans) ask "Why a Bulldog? They're so ugly and weird looking." Of course my initial thought - IN MY HEAD, mind you - is "and a poodle isn't?" Oh and Chileans just HEART their poodles! I've always loved dogs but now that we're actually getting one, I've taken to noticing other people's dogs more and more. And what I've noticed, at least on the surface and quite superficially, is that Chileans love Poodles, Dachshunds and Maltese. In other words, Chileans are partial to little dogs. This makes sense given that there are so many apartment buildings in this city and how cruel would it be to have, say, a German Shepard or even a Labrador in an apartment? But I find the question "why a Bulldog" kind of ridiculous.

Unlike perhaps half of the dog-owning population in Chile (or more!), G and I have researched this breed extensively and we've determined that a bulldog makes complete and total sense for our lifestyle - both now and in the future. (Do you expect less from someone who puts most things in Power Point?) Bullies are perfect for apartments because they don't require too much exercise (once a day for about 20 minutes), docile, friendly, good with kids and other pets, ridiculously loyal and hello - of all breeds, is one of the few with MINIMAL BARKING (G's nightmare dog is a small one who "yaps"). Of course their snoring makes up for the fact that they rarely bark but, hey - we think that's super cute! Obi-wan has been thought out and we truly believe he reflects us, our lifestyle and that he will be an integral part of our lives and who we are as a couple. We're looking for a pet, a companion, a friend and a dog who's "one of us." Obi-wan fits the bill. We like that we can't find a bulldog around every corner and we like the fact that Obi-wan is considered "different." It already makes us love him more.

Bulldog puppies are cute - few people can argue that. But so are adult bulldogs! I mean look at this muffin excited about pool time (p.s. Bulldogs can't really swim so all the pools have to have very shallow water.) He's so excited, he's snorting!! Hahaha!



If all goes according to plan, G and I can welcome Obi-wan by the third week of February ... and yes, I already foresee boring you with silly posts about him - our apologies in advance but you've been warned. Until then, I'll leave you with some Obi-wan cuteness to take with you ...

(Obi's on the right, with a brother or sister on the left)



Rawwwrrrrr!!


And finally ...having a hear-to-heart

Labels: 2010, dogs, G, Obi wan Kenobi