Lilith Saintcrow

Well, Miss B.’s first night went about as well as could be expected. She was spayed and uprooted yesterday, so it took her a while to settle in, and there was some Intestinal Distress. That was to be expected, and was prepared for, but I suspect neither of us got much sleep. She’s still not wanting a lot of food, though she’ll take the treat that gets stuffed inside the little rubber chew toy.

I am happy to report that even under such stress as this, Miss B. is a sweet, loving, kind, and very smart dog. She doesn’t nip or bark; she gets excited and jumps a bit but quits immediately when given a firm “no.” She adores the kids, is cautious of the cats–I noticed in her initial paperwork that she came from a home with both cats and little ones, which was a factor in my agreeing to take her.

So. There will be a writing post up later today, but for now…I am sitting here, typing, with a calm dog next to my chair. It just does not get any better than this.

Today is the day! Miss B., our rescued, red tricolor miniature Australian shepherd, comes home late this afternoon. She will be kind of groggy, since she’ll be fresh from a spaying–and let me tell you, I am already angry at her former owners, who let her get to be three years old without spaying her. (It really is best. ANYWAY.) Everything is prepared–a nice canvas crate for her to retreat to, a couple of doggie beds in rooms we’ll spend a lot of time in, fresh bowls (one for water, one for food, one for the dishwasher) and food and treats, toys, a spare leash and two spare collars, bags for waste removal, toenail clippers and brush–when I went to the pet store yesterday, the clerk insisted on helping carry my purchases to the car. I guess it was a bit overwhelming.

Miss B. comes from the Humane Society for Southwest Washington, an excellent organization. They’ve been just wonderful! Funny story: my regular climbing partner volunteers there on a weekly basis, and after climbing yesterday I went to go see Miss B. and let her know I hadn’t forgotten about her. My climbing partner showed up during the visit too, and we had a nice chat. And then there was a tap at the window, and I look up–and there’s my across-the-street neighbors; they are contemplating a play partner for their current hound. Small, small world. Miss B. gave me an arch look, like “Do you know EVERYONE here, human?” Then she went back to giving kisses and being a guard dog.

I got a chance to get to know her a little better during my visit. She’s extraordinarily smart and inquisitive, very agile, and a very loving dog just aching for a job and a family. As soon as we got it settled I was the alpha she immediately started looking for things to do to help me. She adores giving kisses, loves leaning up against me or resting her head on my knee, and is very interested in what’s happening around the perimeter of her territory. Plus, she’s so adorable it just short-circuits me.

I will try to keep the updates to a minimum, since spamming the airwaves with “OMG NEW DOGGIE SQUEE” gets old after a while. And please understand if I don’t post many pictures. We are going to be very busy, but I’ll at least try to get a couple shots up.

Last night I went to a climbing clinic over at PRG with my bouldering partner. It was fierce. We both had a great time, and I am sore this morning. Dropped knees, high steps, flagging, severe overhangs…we did it all. My bouldering partner’s a very Zen climber–she’s methodical, and is grace personified on the wall. Me? I just throw myself at it and hope something sticks. I climb like the Tasmanian Devil dances. *wry grin* Sheer enthusiasm sometimes makes up for a lack of technique.

Anyway, today I have last-minute errands to run and checks to make sure the house is prepared for the Glorious Advent. The cats are all excited too–they know something is happening, and the two older ones are all, “WE HAVE SEEN THIS SORT OF THING BEFORE” while glaring at the youngest, who is mystified and kind of oblivious. (Miss B.’s former home had felines, so that’s good.) The kitties have several places to go to escape, should they need it, and the introductions are well-planned. I expect our oldest, crankiest cat to simply perch on something high up and announce his displeasure; our middle cat (sweet little tuxedo kitty, our lover, who got kicked in the head by Squirrel!Neo) will be upset until he figures out Miss B. is WARM and FURRY and NEEDS LOVE, at which point they will become bestest friends; and our youngest cat will hide under my daughter’s bed, like he does every day. He’s the kitty who will have the most difficult time adjusting, I think, because he only likes my daughter. She’s his human, and he is not interested in anything or anyone else unless it’s the food bowl. In any case, we’ll work through problems as they arise. It should be hilarious.

Since Miss B. is a herding dog, I expect her to try to herd the cats. Fun times will be had by all. Also, for those of you asking, I do not know how she responds to squirrels. I did try to explain to her yesterday about Squirrel!Neo (“He’s got a crooked tail, and he’s magic. Plus he knows kung fu. I AM NOT KIDDING.”) but she just gave me another arch look. “REALLY, HUMAN,” she seemed to comment, “I CAN HANDLE A RODENT OR TWO. THEY HAVE THOSE IN AUSTRALIA. BIG ONES. THAT KICK YOU IN THE HEAD.”

Oh, Lord. This is going to be fun…

It’s been fifteen years, and I think I’m about ready again. Well, I was willing a long time ago, but now I’m able.

That’s right. We’re getting a dog.

I went down to the shelter yesterday and we found a very sweet miniature Australian shepherd; a working dog. (They get a little antsy if they don’t have a Job, and I sympathize. And there’s plenty for her to do around here.) Venturing into the shelter is a particular type of hell for me–I want to take home every dog there and feed them and love them, but I can’t. I was even prepared not to find a dog who wanted me, but my luck was good–as it always is, with canines. She looked at me, I looked at her, and I swear she cocked her head and said “GO HOME NOW PLEASE?”

It was that simple. Just like always.

Unfortunately, I had to explain that she’d be staying there just a little bit longer to handle the spaying, but I don’t think she understood. In any case, I’ll be bringing her home very soon, and the upheaval will be glorious. I was surrounded by canines growing up, and it’s always been odd to not have a dog during my adult life. Now that I’m in a position where I can take care of one, huzzah! It will be good for me to have a hound around, it will keep me active, and oh, my God, I’ve missed having a dog so much.

I suspect the excitement (plus the tail end of a vicious flu bug) is what woke me up at 3am this morning. I gave in to the inevitable, got up and wrote for an hour before hitting the treadmill, and felt Very Virtuous. Still do, though I suspect I will need a nap before long. Before then, though, I’m on a roll. I have managed to introduce the assassin into the mix, and we’re about to have a lovely knife-throwing, and a little blood shed, and an oath or two sworn in good faith. All in all, it’s not a bad way to spend a morning.

I’m too excited to settle to much beyond writing and preparing the house for tomorrow. So, there it is. Further bulletins as events warrant.

Over and out!

Ring the bells and pass the ammunition, I’m running again!

Seriously. I was out of bed like a shot at 5 this morning, into my running gear, and on the treadmill before you could say “ankle sprain BE CAREFUL.” Warm-up, cooldown, and a half-hour at a very slow and gentle pace. My ankle wasn’t happy, of course, but what part of one’s body IS happy when one’s running? It felt so good. I wanted to keep going and put in an hour, but I’m being a good girl. For now it’s half-hour runs, nice and slow, for the next two weeks while my ankle adjusts to the load. I feel calmer and more centered than I have in weeks.

Add to that the robins I can see pecking in my front yard, and it feels like spring is just around the corner. Of course, spring here in western Washington only differs from winter in that the rain is a few degrees warmer and the trees are leafing out. This year I’m ready for the renewal. Most of my life I’ve been like, “Eh, spring, whatever. Just another season to be miserable in.” Now, however, I am doing the Snoopy Happy Dance and almost wanting to be cheerful with absolute strangers.

Almost. I wouldn’t want to injure anything else.

If you missed it yesterday, my first attempt at a podcast is here. Twelve minutes of me rambling; answering a couple questions about combat scenes and other stuff. It’s a good first effort, I think; next time the levels will be better and I probably won’t sound as scared. I also won’t treat the microphone like it’s a rattlesnake that might strike at any moment. Stay tuned!

Now I’ve got to go stamp all over some flaming revisions. Good thing I’m wearing my boots. Catch you later, Readers.

If you’ve sent me an interview request and haven’t heard from me, it’s because I’m snowed under. Deadline Hell proceedeth apace, and between that and Christmas, I haven’t been able to take a deep breath. I probably won’t until January 1. So, please be patient. If you’ve heard from me and sent me interview questions, and I haven’t returned them, please gently ping me through email. If you sent an interview request and don’t hear from me before the end of the year, please ping me–again, gently–through email. I do try to at least answer requests, even if I can’t spend the time on in-depth interviews.

I did manage to bash the proof pages into submission. They fought back, but my strength was greater–barely, but greater. Now it’s revisions on short stories and finishing the process of getting Angel Town into first-draft shape. I have to make sure the ends are tucked under and everything’s all squared. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to say goodbye to Jill. I don’t know if I’m ready, but…life moves on, whether one’s ready or not.

I’m in a somewhat philosophical mood today, mostly because I was on the treadmill this morning thinking about the past year. I did everything I set out to do, which is a good feeling. 2009 was utterly terrible, but 2010′s been a year I can feel good about. I went back over my checklist of goals-not-resolutions, and I was amazed that I’d pretty much done every one. (I haven’t had time to go back to Latin yet, but I’m working on it.) What was also amazing was how the tiny baby steps I’ve taken all through the year have let me arrive here, stunned by the fact that another year’s ending but pretty much okay.

Well, not pretty much okay. Pretty much fabulous.

So I’ll take the deadline hell and the agony of proofs and the days where I can’t even catch my breath. It’s better than 2009, which is probably my benchmark for “worst year of my adult life” so far. It didn’t quite reach the level of suck I endured while younger, but it tried pretty hard. (Gets an A for effort, that year does.) But it failed to put me down, and as Ellen Foster so memorably said, “I got my fire back in me now.”

It’s good to be back.