Living the un-planned plan

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

The only thing I meant to do today was paint and draw. And what I didn’t do at all is paint and draw.

Instead, I went to the nail salon, because, Gretchen, while your marriage vows are forever, I’m sorry to report that my wedding manicure lasted only two weeks. And who should come by as I was drying my toes in that tootsie toaster on the floor that seems a bit of a joke — it was Stephanie! Isn’t it great when unplanned events are so perfect that you couldn’t plan them if you tried? Somebody is pulling the strings in manicure-land, I believe!

The only reason I went to this place (aside from that its location next to Safeway grocery makes it the most convenient salon in midtown) is that when I approached to see if Zing could come in with me they said “Of course.” Zing curled up silently the whole time and did not ask for any nail services at all. 

The manicurist taught me to say thank you, cam o’n, in Vietnamese.

Speaking of Zing, he and I spent many minutes upon minutes training each other — he still whimpers when I’m out of the condo for more than 60 seconds. My job was to leave and return before he whimpers, and his was to break down like a dog threatened with sad sad things. Trauma. I wanted to believe all this was past, and that I can just come and go like in a normal dog household. But I discovered otherwise when I turned on the audio recorder and there were sad sounds! 

What led to this today is that yesterday I gave him the anti-anxiety pills, because I was going out for an hour. I’m pretty sure Zing didn’t bark or even whimper, but when I returned home, and for several hours after, his tail would not wag. He was not himself. So I decided to work and work and work some more with him on these exercises. All the books say it requires patience. 

And this evening my neighbors invited me for a glass of wine (with Zing), and we laughed like old friends for more than an hour. 

So the day slipped by and I did not paint at all. Tomorrow!

Love,

k