ONE Today I took my dog to the vet. The vet that put him on Prozac. “Can’t we start with something, you know, herbal?” I asked. “Oh no,” she insisted. “We start with the big guns.”
TWO That was several months ago. The last time I tried to refill his prescription, FIRST NAME GEORGE, LAST NAME MY NAME, the office said, nope, bloodwork first. So we made the appointment for today.
THREE And guess what, lovers? Shit, there is so much I’m not filling you in on. I don’t have the patience to set this up properly. The point is, another vet, at the same office, gave me a counter-opinion, and I lost my marbs.
FOUR Really, vets office? Really?
FIVE I’ve spent the afternoon apologizing to my dog. I’m not sure he’s going to forgive me.
SIX But wait. Does he know we’re moving to San Francisco?
SEVEN George, if you read this, and I know you can, because you’re a Chinese Taiwanese genius dog really called Shui Shui, aka Handsome, I need you to understand. Your mom partially took a job in San Francisco in the hope of giving you a better life.
EIGHT George, they have a Chinese mayor. And probably the traffic isn’t as bad as DeKalb Avenue. And I bet I can find a dog herbalist nutritionist who can perform Qi Gong on you to get your natural healing juices working properly.
NINE I quit my job on Wednesday in the middle of the afternoon. 2-something Eastern Time. I practiced some breathing exercises — wished for a paper bag — and luckily my big red pink flower cheetah scarf hid my big red nervous neck rash.
TEN George, we have an entire month off. For the holidays. You know how I’m making vegan chili now, George? And drinking Hennepin? Yes, thanks for noticing. Well, George, this is just the beginning.
ELEVEN And then we have six months to Transition Out! George, you probably have never heard of fiscal years. No, they don’t run on Gregorian calendars. Yes, when I was insomiating this morning at 4am, I *was* trying to figure out why October is the 10th month yet “octo-” means eight. Because in my head I was matching up August to Aout to whatever the word is in Swedish to huit and, forget it.
TWELVE We have a whole winter to get through, and a spring, and then a big drive, and I hope you don’t vomit too much. But you’ll be glad (?) to know that I declined the offer in Miami. Because, well, Miami.
THIRTEEN Today when you were whining and freaking and your eyes were dilated into madness territory, and I tried to distract you while you were wearing the muzzle and they were drawing your blood, I was like, goddamn it, one day none of this will matter, because you’ll have your own dogdamn patch of grass, and you’ll be the king of it, and I don’t care if those hippies think you bark too much. We’re not moving into a high rise on a busy street so you can live your life desperately escaping to the park twice a day. There will be no more desperate escapes.