Charlywalker's Blog

{May 18, 2010}   Happy as a Flea in a Bloghouse

Can anyone  claim that they are truly happy, and what is  involved in being truly happy?  Is it when you have an incredible belly laugh over something your dog did? Or maybe a family anecdote escaped  from a loved one and caused you to chuckle?

I love to laugh, I think laughter is the best thing God put on this earth yet I haven’t have a good laugh in years.  I’m talking about a “holding your gut” type of laughter or a possible “pea my pants” hysteria. I haven’t had a belly buster since I was in the hospital dressing my baby for our discharge and my three day old infant let out a fart that summoned the nurse into the room asking if we rang the “call” button..

I could be in a complete hormonal crash mode and my puppy will do everything possible to make me smile. My family is not cognizant of my dips in the estrogen scale, but my dog seems to be in sync with my cycles. Or lack of them. How is that?

My dog seems to know if I am ready for battle or ready to break down. My dog knows when to clear out of the way of my hormonal war zone or when to retreat to fetal position on my lap. Why is it my puppy knows more about my intrinsic whereabouts than I do?

  I have a battle going on within my body that  General  Grant himself could not stop. I have hormones screaming for freedom and radical change that the N.O.W.  would hold  as a P.O.W. if my Uterus wasn’t M.I.A. I have a constant struggle for autonomy encompassing my body that could have only been felt by Rosa Parks herself while demanding the front seat of that Greyhound.

I feel that my body has left me for another and I am summoned to co exist with  synthetic replacements.  I think menopause has left me stranded at the train station awaiting the midnight train to nowhere. I think I am left with a one way ticket to Hormonal Hell and the only way back is to dig deep into my Coach pocket book for a sedative or a 2008 Santa Barbara Chardonnay.

You can not tell me that there are not other women experiencing the same things I do with regards to the bodily changes after 50 or 40 or in some very rare cases 39. How can you tell if a person is really happy ? There are many people who pretend to be and carry their emotions on their designer sleeve all the while walking erect, eyes forward, and possibly struggling with demons within. I guess we’ll never know until they become headline news.

I believe laughter is the best medicine, but don’t let the AMA in on this  little secret or many Medical Men might go out of business and abolish that Happy Pill.  That pill that transforms perfectly normal people into Dawn of the Dead. That pill that takes someone from a vibrant sprinter to a lethargic shuffler. That pill that can neutralize womankind to a state of accepted behavior. I need one of those pills right now. Not for me, for my post neutered puppy.

I thought having him de-testicled would  make him calmer and less aggressive , but  lately he has been overtly spunky and has completely regressed to his infantile behavior. There must be some kind of lead line from his balls to his brain. Some kind of disconnect has resulted from his severed Dog- hood. Take away a puppy’s family jewels and you are left with an empty baguette. Charly-dog must be frustrated and confused and possibly not happy. Oh,  I see him periodically wagging is tail but I think he is just fanning his farts in my direction.

 I do witness him gnawing on his Faux filled bone with his eyes rolling to the back of his bobble head as he seems to enjoy gnashing his canines on the calcified cartilage. I have watched him tear into that thing for twenty minutes with out taking a breath totally engrossed in engraving his teeth marks into the cortex. Personally I think he is etching his initials into it to label his toys. My puppy is so bewitched by this bone that he has dragged  it through four rooms of the house in under twenty minutes. He is so content and happy with his treasure that I’m wondering if I should get myself a bone to pick on.

I may have to  improvise and find something in a soft chew as to not destroy the hundreds of dollars worth of caps & crowns imbedded in my mouth. I could just see me trying to explain to the Dentist why all my teeth are chipped and broken and sharpened into points. No I think I’ll leave that behavior for my puppy, he holds the secret to chewing on something until it disintegrates and it makes him happy.

I hold the key to the liquor cabinet and that makes me happy………………………………………………………………….

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