I guess it is a little more complicated than I had indicated. I do have several options to consider if it comes to things I could do to get out of the house. Certainly money is a factor since I am paying rent on a duplex and a mortgage, so volunteer activities would be one way to go. As it is I volunteer once a week to “teach” (I don’t actually understand the language) Italian to a self-study group once a week. I try to get over to my parents’ house one weeknight, primarily to let them know I care. I also try to go over for a longer visit on one weekend day. They think it’s so I can do laundry (which is a benefit), but again it’s more for the purpose of making myself available.

Unfortunately during the times that I am working, teaching or spending time with my parents, my dog is alone. The dog is not welcome at my parents house, because they hate the whole fur and paw print thing. He is also alone all day while I’m at work… since we’re renting a duplex without the benefit of a dog door so that he can neither relieve himself nor entertain himself with the neighborhood goings on.

I don’t think I mentioned it before, but my older dog (the one I use as an avatar) passed away this summer, shortly before my younger dog (Rocket) made the move to live with me here. Rocket is our problem child, fraught with problems that have over the years been whittled down to a very bad heart condition and an aggressive fear of other dogs. (It took six months to get peaceful coexistence with our older dog.)

Anyway, for a dog with his nervous disposition, he has handled a lot of changes in a small amount of time. First, the loss of Zero’s companionship, then the change in address, which accompanied by the loss of my husband’s companionship (H is home all day and Rocket worships him) and the loss of access to a dog door. I make an effort to take him out for his abbreviated (because of the heart condition) play time, but I usually leave the house at sun up and am not back until after dark. Short version, is that it’s unkind to leave him alone as much as I do.

I suppose I could work on making friends to entertain at home, (again these would be my friends who have no relationship with H) but we’re in a duplex that is even smaller (I never imagined it possible) than our old house. I actually have to move the coffee table depending on whether I want to sit or walk in the living room.
I think that if H were here, it might be possible to go out and make friends or have activities, because the dog would have some companionship during the day. If H got a job and/or we sold the house (which literally does not have a bathroom at this moment) then I think we could afford to get some professional help for Rocket… either daily dog walking or I’ve seriously been considering putting him in a very expensive socialization class, so that he might be able to handle multiple dog situations.

Indeed, if we buy a house out here (again depending on selling the house and H having a job) then we would definitely have a dog door for him and would absolutely consider getting a companion for him, given the provision that he doesn’t attempt to kill his new companion.

My H doesn’t exactly have a heavenly situation in KC. He has to live with his creepy, overbearing brother, and he spends his entire days alone… much like I spend my entire nights alone… working on an empty house. He doesn’t see that he has the option of spending time with people he knows well, nor does he seem to get that they would actually help him if he asked. Whenever I bring that up, he gives me lots of excuses about how difficult it is to “plan” ways for other people to help. He doesn’t realize that he’s making a choice, and he really believes that this situation is completely out of his control. Just like teaching someone else’s cat to use a cat flap was something he was compelled (by whom I don’t know) to do, rather than spending that time buying duct work for the bathroom.

I know I’ve made a choice to spend time with my dog and to limit my activities until my H gets here, but I’m not entirely sure that it’s worth it. Heck, I’m not entirely sure that there is really an end in sight.

If we had a bathroom, if my husband moved out here, if my husband had a job, if we bought a house… there’s a lot of ifs between now and the ideal. Personally, I think my husband is just masochistic enough to continue chasing some future perfection and that the “ifs” could go on until he drops over dead.


"A man's character is his fate." -- Heraclitus