The Dumbest Dog I Ever Had

I watched as the vet placed the needle into the tube connected to Kaladi's leg and began injecting the first medicine. It was a sleep aid just to make sure he was comfortable. As she slowly pushed on the syringe and I could see the fluid fill the tube, I began to wonder if maybe I shouldn't try and stop her. To plead with my dad that there must be some other way. Maybe Kaladi just needed a couple days and before we knew it, he'd be back to his old self again. Maybe there was something else we could do to give him new life, a surgery or some meds. But I knew the truth, that my dumb dog was old and it was his time. The only problem with that was that he was dumb and didn't see, to know it. Certainly, Kaladi's body had failed him. He could barely get up on a good day, let alone walk. Which also meant he could no longer go up or down the stairs for using the bathroom. And he hadn't eaten anything in days. But even though his body had run its course, his eyes were filled with the same spirit they had the day we got him as a puppy. Where most of his body had failed him, his heart had decided to try and do it all on its own.
It took most the syringe of meds before Kaladi finally laid down to sleep. He fell over in an awkward position, so that he almost looked like he'd just gotten really drunk and decided to pass out wherever and however. Then the vet switched to her other syringe, the dose of the stuff that would end his life. I wanted to daydream that he'd jump up before she injected the stuff and run circles around us. I wanted to try and give myself an imaginary happy ending, but I couldn't.
Instead I felt like an asshole because there was nothing I could do. And I was mad at myself for not taking him out for a walk more often. Or feeding him some better food than that dry crappy dog food that's supposedly formulated for dogs (if that stuff is so well formulated, why do dogs always seem to want to eat nearly anything but that stuff?). Or that I couldn't really do anything special for him before this had to happen. And in a weird way, I was mad at myself for ever joining the Air Force and missing so much of his life (I know some people think "what's the big deal, it's just a dog", but if you've ever had a dog for a long time, you know what the big deal is and that it's never just a dog).
And then I just remembered a lot of my time with him. Friday nights when I had nothing to do and there was no one home but Kaladi and I and he'd sit there with me while I watched TV. Or his insane sixth sense for knowing when I was going to get food from the kitchen. The way he liked to sit at the top of the stairs as though to claim this was his house. His desire to always play, though never any typical games people play with dogs (i.e. fetch or tug-of-war). How he licked everything, from the floors to people to cabinet doors; if he could get his tongue to it, he probably would. And then of course, there was the fact that he always looked to be smiling, no matter what was going on.
We stuck around for a few minutes after the vet gave him the final syringe. And I just stared at him, almost disbelieving he was dead. When I woke up this morning, I had no idea this was going to happen today. I knew he was old and the time was coming, but I thought for sure we had a couple more months at least. Instead there I was late afternoon watching a good friend die.

If I take nothing else from this day, it's that I hope when it's my time to go, I go out a lot like Kaladi. Not on the floor of a vet's office (though that would probably have an interesting story attached to it, so I can't say I'm necessarily opposed to the idea). But that no matter how much my body has fallen apart, my spirit is still as eager for adventure as always, and that it can be seen in my eyes.

A Letter to My Future Wife

Dear Wife,
We haven't met yet and sometimes I wonder if you even really exist. But if some of my friends are to be believed, along with my overly romantic side that spends too much time dreaming, you're out there somewhere. Chances are, we haven't even met yet (though I'm definitely hoping we meet soon even if we can't get married for a bit). But that doesn't mean I can't make you some promises already.
See, I've spent a lot of time in the friend zone. But unlike most guys that end up in the friend zone, I've actually tried to maintain those friendships. Which means I've had a lot of female friends (don't fret about this; as you will see, it's been for the better). And also unlike a lot of guys out there (at least according to those female friends), I've done this crazy thing and actually listened to what these girls have had to say. And from this listening, I've noticed a few common complaints many women have about the man in their life.
While I can't promise perfect, I can do my best to be as close to it as possible. And with that in mind, I've compiled this list for you. These are promises that I will do all I can to keep so much as I am of sound mind and body.
1) First and foremost, as I alluded to already, I will listen to you when you talk. No matter what it is you're talking about. So please don't say anything around me you don't want me to hear. And please don't as me to repeat what you just said, because sometimes we don't realize how dumb we sound until we hear it coming from someone else.
2) Not only will I make sure not to leave my dirty clothes laying wherever they should fall, but I will do all my own laundry. Really, I'm a big boy, I can do those kinds of things on my own. I can even do my own ironing (though truth be told I'm pretty lazy and if something needs to be ironed, I'm likely to take it to the dry cleaners and let them clean and press it).
3) Whenever I'm done using the toilet, no matter what I used it for, I will make sure to flush it. Number one, number two, or just using the toilet as a trash receptacle for a tissue; no one wants to walk in and see someone else's business. Also, I will make sure to put the toilet seat down. And probably the lid as well.
4) I will never take the last bowl of ice cream from the container. That's right, if I wake up with a late night craving for ice cream (yes, guys get them too) and there's not enough for two bowls, I will leave what's left in the carton and find some other way to satisfy my craving. (Probably with milk and kahlua).
5) And lastly, I will do all I can to never fart in front of you. Certainly, I'm human and one may slip every now and then, but damnit, you're the love of my life. I should be doing all I can to convince you I'm more than human and above such immature and crass things. And since I'm on the subject, I beg you, please do the same for me.
Anyways, there you go, a few promises I can make without even knowing you. Certainly there will be more to come once we meet and I figure out you're the one and all that. But without knowing you, I think these make a good base set of promises from which to build upon. And at this point, I can only hope you'll feel the same. So until we actually meet, I must bid you adieu.

Sincerely,
The guy that somehow tricked you into marrying him

Sometimes I'm Not Who I Think I Am

I'm not a very charismatic guy. I'm a nerd that may say funny things at times, but it's also not uncommon for me to say awkward/weird/rude thing. I never know what to say around new people, which often leads to a lot of awkward moments and me probably seeming like a creep. Thankfully, I know this, so most the time when I meet someone for the first time, I know to talk as little as possible, at least when it comes to informal social situations. However, there are some times I forget that I'm not a very charming guy (these times usually involve consumption of large amounts of alcohol) and I precede to make an ass of myself. Sometimes and internal alarm goes off and says "Paul, you're being an idiot again", but once the ball has already started rolling, there's almost no way of stopping it.
Last Thursday night was yet another episode of all this.
First, let me say I saw the band Ra Ra Riot and the show itself was awesome. The only other time I can recall ever seeing a band put so much energy into their show was when I saw The Faint like five years ago in Atlanta. Of course, most people I know haven't heard of either of these bands, so all I can say is if you have a chance to see them, take it.
Anyways, it was after the show that things went downhill. I went to a bar with some people from the show and I ended up talking to some girl named Ingrid. Somewhere in the conversation, as my fuzzy memory recalls it, she said I was creepy and walked off. So I decided to forget about her and just wandered around the bar. Before long the group I walked over with left and I was standing there wondering what to do (like should I leave or see if I can't meet anyone new). Then Ingrid walks over and starts talking to me, which I thought odd being she called me creepy. After a couple minutes, she asks if I remember her name. I didn't (like I said, I told myself to forget about her, which I'm somehow able to do when drinking). I don't know why, but she didn't seem to like that. And of course she left. I think I tried coming up with some sort of excuse as to why I couldn't remember her name (like I'd been introduced to a couple dozen people that night; how was I to remember them all), but it didn't really matter.
The night had a couple more dumb interactions and then I left. But, because I was feeling so drunk and wise, I decided to save myself some money on a cab and walk home. It turned out to be a seven mile walk. Throw in the natural hilliness of Anchorage, my inability to walk in a very straight line, and the fact that no paved surfaces in this town are without their bumps and pot holes, and that walk ended up being very painful. Oh well, at least this time I didn't bring a DD that ditched me.
Anyways, moral of the story - I should quit drinking. At least in public.

Haven't Done One of These in Awhile

There really hasn't been a lot to write about lately. I finished my first real school and I think I passed all my classes (I'm a little worried about Music Appreciation). But that doesn't seem like anything worth writing a blog about.
I could whine about things with Aimee. But that wouldn't make her any less dumb and many any less dumber.
I thought about trying to not whine in a blog, but then people would wonder if I was alright or on drugs.

I don't like where I'm at in life, as in living back in Anchorage. But I've realized that this is where God wants me to be. And as I've come to accept that reality, certain things have ceased to bother me as much. I wish I had a better idea of what He's up to though; because whatever I always think it is it never turns out to be. And sometimes no matter what it is, there's a certain disappointment to it not being what I was hoping for.
I've also been doing a lot of introspective thinking and owning up to my flaws that I like to pretend I don't have. But just because I'm willing to accept responsibility doesn't mean I'm willing to accept the consequences.
There's a little voice inside me that says everything is going to be ok. But during moments of solitude when I look at the mountains that form the backdrop of Anchorage, he quits being a little voice. He's loud and he's proud and he's singing so loud I worry someone else might hear. But then there's moments when he's an inaudible whisper, fighting against the screams of failure and hopelessness, when the memories of all the moments I wish I could forget just play themselves over and over again in my head.