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Home again. What a shock to the system, I tell ya. Last Saturday I moved back into the home in Dundas I left over two and a half years ago. I’m only here temporarily while some major renovations are done on my own house in Hamilton but it will take two or three months at least. I love my house in Hamilton, but I am in love with this house, as I have been since the first time I set foot in it many years ago. Most stunning of all is the peace and beauty that surrounds this place as opposed to the filth and cacophony around the Hamilton house. Everywhere I look and move here there are manicured lawns, enormous trees, and plentiful lush gardens. The short few days I’ve spent here have already begun to repair my soul.
My own home is in the centre of an almost barren city covered in garbage, graffiti, broken glass and dog feces. Going back will be difficult, but that is my home, my independence so long desired after. As much as the surroundings sap my soul, the independence of having a home entirely my own has eased my mind and settled some things in my heart as nothing else could. As the saying goes, “Give me one firm spot on which to stand and I will move the world.” It is necessary to my well-being to have a place on this earth from which no one can take from me or move me from. My life was for so long, for too long, borrowed or permitted by the grace of another. I am pleased, however, to enjoy the graces of another for a little while once more if it means rejuvenating myself in a softer, gentler side of life. The harshness of my circumstances have drained me and I need to replenish the well in well-being. This feels indeed like a much-needed vacation.
In other news, I am adopting one of the dogs that I have fostered through an animal rescue organization. Her name is Willow (pictures to follow shortly) and she is a beautiful and eccentric clown of a dog. She was terribly aggressive with me for the week or so that she first came to me and as such the rescue organization was going to send her back to her owners saying she was “not adoptable”. What would surely happen to Willow then is that she would be given away for free in a classified ad with a strong likelihood that she would be abused by a new owner attempting to force her into submission. There are countless sad stories like that. My heart told me another story. It told me she was not mean but afraid, not overly dominant but overly insecure. Heart said, “Give her time. Give her space. Give her reassurance.” Insisting the Rescue give me more time with her to see what happened, Willow’s growling and snarling gave way to tail-wagging and tug-of-war games and eventually to giving ‘kisses’. Still insisting on returning to her owners I couldn’t in good conscience say “take her”. She is not my heart’s desire (not yet), but she is lovely and lively and there is something about her that made me say “leave her”.
She is a grand sized german shepherd cross with long, long legs that allow her to rest her head easily on top of the kitchen table. She is also terrified of the deaf, declawed, decrepit old twenty year old cat and simultaneously jealous as hell. We have to put up a room divider across the hallway to separate them at night so we can sleep peacefully without the intermittent barking and hissing that accompanies the day. They’re involved in the most ridiculous war imaginable. The cat wants to eat the dog’s food instead of the cat food but the dog is too greedy to share. The dog is determined to eat the cat food instead of her own dog food but the cat is too greedy to share too. Thus, they jealousy guard their own unwanted food with a hisses and barking. Idiocy. We have to put down the dog food during the day and replace it with cat food at night and keep them separated while the other is eating. It appears that every moment of my life in this house is destined to be spent as a referee, first between the two girls, and now between the dog and cat. The familiarity of the role is reassuring, almost pleasant.
And now back to the gardens. They haven’t been touched since I left all that time ago. They’re in a terrible weedy mess and it is my delight to set them right again.
Steph
