Moving On
The actual move had been a year in the planning. By the time it actually came about, Greg's relationship with Neea-Kha was almost as strained as our marriage. He had always insisted on making Nee even more protective than her nature warranted. She was naturally protective, she didn't need encouragement. He did this by pretending he was attacking me - he'd come up behind me with a growl and grab me. When Nee was a little pup, it was cute and I was a willing participant, but soon realized that this was a disaster in the making. Greg wouldn't let it go, to his detriment. It had come to the point that if he so much as walked past me in a hallway, she would attack him. She' d leave bites and scratches all over his arms. Still, he insisted on playing the game. One day, as Nee and I were lazing about in bed, Greg came in and pretended to sneak up on me. As he crawled across the bed (in stalking mode), Nee jumped, teeth bared, right at his face. Fortunately, his reflexes were fast and he managed to evade her teeth. He also got very angry and raised his fist to deflect further attacks. I grabbed his arm, and that was it....no more of this bullshit! We're outta here. Started looking for an apartment next day. One of my sisters ran into him in another province many years later and told him of Neea-Kha's passing a few months before. He wasn't concerned because after all, she had been the cause of our break-up! Huh? Oh well, anything to avoid looking at our own faults.
It was very difficult finding an apartment for a dog. Some asked how big a dog and when I said mid-size, they said no, they would only consider a small dog. Yes, I could have not even mentioned having a dog as friends recommended, because it's not legal to evict someone just by dint of them having a dog. Don't ask, don't tell (dare I use that expression in this context?). I am cynical enough to know if someone didn't want dogs around, the first bark would be a first notice, the first lump of dog pooh found around the premises would have been from my dog (even if I showed them the pile of pick-up bags in my garbage). It wasn't worth it; if you don't want my dog, we don't want you. I did eventually find a large apartment that was dog-friendly, but it wasn't exactly what I was looking for. I really wanted an apartment with a fenced-in self-contained yard that Nee and I could play in. While I didn't mind that it was in the basement -- nice and cool for Neea-Kha - the windows were too far up to afford her a really good view. I knew that this would only be a transition apartment until I found a more suitable one.
Moving day came - I was very organized in those days. I had rented the apartment for two weeks prior to the moving date and had the necessities moved in and sorted for that day. I went with the movers, my car piled high with yet more boxes. I would pick Nee up after the movers left. I wasn't taking much - just necessary furniture and my personal items, as well as Nee's paraphenalia. Even with that, boxes filled the livingroom of the apartment. Back home to get my girl. Greg had just come from burying Dancer, he had already said good-bye to Nee and we were on our way. I had been quite excited about this move all along (I'd had a few years to come to terms with the inevitable). When I opened the door to the apartment, which I had left fifteen minutes earlier, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Nee and I both stood in the threshold of the apartment, staring in. She didn't want to go in and I thought to myself "I want to go home, I want to go home now". Reality soon set in that this WAS home now, but the shell-shock just wouldn't go away. I finally gave in to it and allowed myself a week to pull up my socks and make this our home. I had left my 5-week-vacation job two years back, so I had two weeks to get this place in order. Nee would not settle. I brought out her toys, her rope, her Kong but nothing soothed her. She just paced up and down the box-filled livingroom. I took out the ball the three of us had played with throughout the years - cracked down the middle, colour washed out. She grabbed that ball and layed on the floor and whined - short, pitifull moans and whines as she mouthed it. I put our living quarters into some semblance of order and we spent the rest of the morning -- mourning. Afternoon came and we dragged ourselves up and out to check out the neighbourhood. Beside us was a church with a huge back grassy lot. Wasn't sure if it was ok to go there, but did anyways...who's gonna kick you out of a church yard for just walking? Nee perked up considerably when she spied holes in the grass -- small, deep holes that I would soon find out were groundhog holes. She went around to each hole sticking her snout so far in, I thought she was going to get stuck in one. I let her sniff, but gave her just enough slack to keep her head outside the holes. In from our walk -- into this dull, lifeless apartment, we moped about; she wouldn't play ball with me, just kept the ball to herself, resuming her moans and cries. Damned near broke my heart.
I had determined before we moved to keep to the same routine Nee was used to, as much as possible. Next morning at 5 a.m. ('cause that's when Greg had taken her out each morning), bleary eyed and exhausted, I didn't bother putting on her halter - just attached the lead to her collar. Walked out the back door - car coming - driveway just narrow enough for one car - back door less than a foot from said driveway. Nee bolted and I fell onto the gravel driveway; face down in the gravel. Driver slams on the brakes inches from my head BUT - I still have hold of Nee's leash and I'm between her and the car. Got myself up, shook myself off and didn't dare look at the driver who, I found out later, was my next-door neighbour. He wondered what a drunk lady was doing out at 5 o'clock in the morning -- coat on over her nightgown, hair everywhere, wild dog pulling her. Scraped my knee, elbow, nose, injured my dignity badly. By the time our walk was over, I had a new plan. No more 5 a.m. walks, no more walking with leash on collar. I'd simply go to bed an hour later so Nee could do her thing, then sleep in two hours later. Worked like a charm - I was closer to work now and wouldn't have to get up so early. Over the course of the first week, I managed to get the apartment organized. I still walked around on auto-pilot; the only time Nee was animated was on our walks to the groundhog holes. We walked a lot that week. Met the pastor of the church beside us who approved us walking in the churchyard - he had apparently seen us walking there on a number of occasions and knew I always cleaned up after my dog. As it happened, I had a bag of evidence in my hand when I met him, fortunately. I say fortunately, 'cause it turns out Neea-Kha did not like this man. Had he tried to shake my hand, she would have knocked him down. As it was, the moment he got too close for her comfort, she jumped between us, teeth bared, deep growls - daring him to come closer. He was a wise man. She never did allow him to get within hand-shaking reach of me the entire 10 months we were at this apartment. He tried to win her over but she wouldn't be swayed. There was an elderly man whose yard backed onto the church property, separated by a fence. He'd see us walking and come over and talk (or tried to). Nee didn't like him either -- same thing -- don't even think about moving within arm's reach. This fellow actually brought her treats to try to win her over. He'd hold out the treat, she'd leap forward, grab the treat and jump back to me, resuming her growling. Both fellows eventually gave up and left us to our own devices. I thought it was because Greg was no longer in the picture and she alone had to protect me from any threat. However, she was fine with other men around me. One of my co-worker friends lived just down the street from our building. She was ok with him - maybe because he was accompanied by his wife and/or grandchildren. There had only been one other person she hadn't liked when we lived in our house - a neighbour from down the block. Greg and I had her out for a walk one evening and this neighbour had come out and in the course of our conversation, he put his hand on my shoulder. Nee jumped up and knocked his hand away and growled at him. He backed off, but she would never let him get within shouting distance before she started threatening him with her growls.
Gradually, we settled into a groove -- well, maybe not settled but we did establish a routine of sorts....
It was very difficult finding an apartment for a dog. Some asked how big a dog and when I said mid-size, they said no, they would only consider a small dog. Yes, I could have not even mentioned having a dog as friends recommended, because it's not legal to evict someone just by dint of them having a dog. Don't ask, don't tell (dare I use that expression in this context?). I am cynical enough to know if someone didn't want dogs around, the first bark would be a first notice, the first lump of dog pooh found around the premises would have been from my dog (even if I showed them the pile of pick-up bags in my garbage). It wasn't worth it; if you don't want my dog, we don't want you. I did eventually find a large apartment that was dog-friendly, but it wasn't exactly what I was looking for. I really wanted an apartment with a fenced-in self-contained yard that Nee and I could play in. While I didn't mind that it was in the basement -- nice and cool for Neea-Kha - the windows were too far up to afford her a really good view. I knew that this would only be a transition apartment until I found a more suitable one.
Moving day came - I was very organized in those days. I had rented the apartment for two weeks prior to the moving date and had the necessities moved in and sorted for that day. I went with the movers, my car piled high with yet more boxes. I would pick Nee up after the movers left. I wasn't taking much - just necessary furniture and my personal items, as well as Nee's paraphenalia. Even with that, boxes filled the livingroom of the apartment. Back home to get my girl. Greg had just come from burying Dancer, he had already said good-bye to Nee and we were on our way. I had been quite excited about this move all along (I'd had a few years to come to terms with the inevitable). When I opened the door to the apartment, which I had left fifteen minutes earlier, I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. Nee and I both stood in the threshold of the apartment, staring in. She didn't want to go in and I thought to myself "I want to go home, I want to go home now". Reality soon set in that this WAS home now, but the shell-shock just wouldn't go away. I finally gave in to it and allowed myself a week to pull up my socks and make this our home. I had left my 5-week-vacation job two years back, so I had two weeks to get this place in order. Nee would not settle. I brought out her toys, her rope, her Kong but nothing soothed her. She just paced up and down the box-filled livingroom. I took out the ball the three of us had played with throughout the years - cracked down the middle, colour washed out. She grabbed that ball and layed on the floor and whined - short, pitifull moans and whines as she mouthed it. I put our living quarters into some semblance of order and we spent the rest of the morning -- mourning. Afternoon came and we dragged ourselves up and out to check out the neighbourhood. Beside us was a church with a huge back grassy lot. Wasn't sure if it was ok to go there, but did anyways...who's gonna kick you out of a church yard for just walking? Nee perked up considerably when she spied holes in the grass -- small, deep holes that I would soon find out were groundhog holes. She went around to each hole sticking her snout so far in, I thought she was going to get stuck in one. I let her sniff, but gave her just enough slack to keep her head outside the holes. In from our walk -- into this dull, lifeless apartment, we moped about; she wouldn't play ball with me, just kept the ball to herself, resuming her moans and cries. Damned near broke my heart.
I had determined before we moved to keep to the same routine Nee was used to, as much as possible. Next morning at 5 a.m. ('cause that's when Greg had taken her out each morning), bleary eyed and exhausted, I didn't bother putting on her halter - just attached the lead to her collar. Walked out the back door - car coming - driveway just narrow enough for one car - back door less than a foot from said driveway. Nee bolted and I fell onto the gravel driveway; face down in the gravel. Driver slams on the brakes inches from my head BUT - I still have hold of Nee's leash and I'm between her and the car. Got myself up, shook myself off and didn't dare look at the driver who, I found out later, was my next-door neighbour. He wondered what a drunk lady was doing out at 5 o'clock in the morning -- coat on over her nightgown, hair everywhere, wild dog pulling her. Scraped my knee, elbow, nose, injured my dignity badly. By the time our walk was over, I had a new plan. No more 5 a.m. walks, no more walking with leash on collar. I'd simply go to bed an hour later so Nee could do her thing, then sleep in two hours later. Worked like a charm - I was closer to work now and wouldn't have to get up so early. Over the course of the first week, I managed to get the apartment organized. I still walked around on auto-pilot; the only time Nee was animated was on our walks to the groundhog holes. We walked a lot that week. Met the pastor of the church beside us who approved us walking in the churchyard - he had apparently seen us walking there on a number of occasions and knew I always cleaned up after my dog. As it happened, I had a bag of evidence in my hand when I met him, fortunately. I say fortunately, 'cause it turns out Neea-Kha did not like this man. Had he tried to shake my hand, she would have knocked him down. As it was, the moment he got too close for her comfort, she jumped between us, teeth bared, deep growls - daring him to come closer. He was a wise man. She never did allow him to get within hand-shaking reach of me the entire 10 months we were at this apartment. He tried to win her over but she wouldn't be swayed. There was an elderly man whose yard backed onto the church property, separated by a fence. He'd see us walking and come over and talk (or tried to). Nee didn't like him either -- same thing -- don't even think about moving within arm's reach. This fellow actually brought her treats to try to win her over. He'd hold out the treat, she'd leap forward, grab the treat and jump back to me, resuming her growling. Both fellows eventually gave up and left us to our own devices. I thought it was because Greg was no longer in the picture and she alone had to protect me from any threat. However, she was fine with other men around me. One of my co-worker friends lived just down the street from our building. She was ok with him - maybe because he was accompanied by his wife and/or grandchildren. There had only been one other person she hadn't liked when we lived in our house - a neighbour from down the block. Greg and I had her out for a walk one evening and this neighbour had come out and in the course of our conversation, he put his hand on my shoulder. Nee jumped up and knocked his hand away and growled at him. He backed off, but she would never let him get within shouting distance before she started threatening him with her growls.
Gradually, we settled into a groove -- well, maybe not settled but we did establish a routine of sorts....