So, yeah. That happened.
Other than the craziness that encompassed the pre-wedding bliss, a synopsis of which is found here: http://openapphoto.blogspot.com/2013/10/guest-blog-wedding-planning-in-sixty.html everything was great.
That is to say, more than great. It was the single most amazing day of my life.
Y’all should really check out more posts at that blog I liked to above; there’s a few more about us but Bob (our photographer) has a similar (albeit, cleaner) sense of humor. I enjoy his blog posts. Shout out!
Something I’ve noticed about married life I didn’t expect:
Sam and I have been dating and living together for a long time. Obviously long enough for him to feel compelled to get down on a knee and do that thing with the ring. Sharing a living space, sharing many expenses and talking about the future together always made me feel like we were in this (read: crazy effed up thing called life) together. That being said, I didn’t think anything would really change that much. After all, technically my last name hasn’t even changed. On our way back to our home-sweet-home after being in New Bern, NC for a few days for the wedding, I was in my car, all alone, occasionally glancing at my left hand now heavier from one more ring. I started to realize something I felt and put an order to it. I feel now that we’re more of a team. Instead of him and me, it’s us. It’s our life…our house…our dreams and our future. It’s more real and tangible now than it was before. It kind of swelled up in my ribs and made me feel…well, complete.
Ok, sorry about all that mushy kissy blah blah…but it’s true! I do feel that way. Interesting how I couldn’t even predict how that would feel and I’ve never felt anything like it before.
Also, I Batman-duct-taped my laptop. It glows in the dark.
Funny story…we weren’t really planning a honeymoon, as one would traditionally think. The most elaborate plan we could conjure was going to Asheville for a few days. I’ve never seen the northwest part of the state and, from what I’ve heard, it’s gorgeous around this time of year. As opposed to parts of trees and other flora just turning brown and falling off, things actually turn autumny. Sounds right up my alley.
So, we get home after several days, accomplish some last-minute tasks (got rid of the Cougar!) and I remember that our roommate is leaving to go back home for nearly a week. Roadblock. No one is here to watch our little big-dog. Quick solution: board him. He loves other people and other dogs…this will be great. He’ll be fine.
So we call a few places, find one nearby that’s relatively cheap and the guy answering the phone sounds not serial-killerish so I’m convinced (that makes me sound like I have low standards for my pet’s care, doesn’t it?)
So, we bring his favorite ball and his 90-gallon food container, hoping it will last for four days. This guy uses an abacus and a typewriter to fill out all the necessary paperwork (I swear, I didn’t think they’d have the ability to take a debit card) and we bring Harley back to the kennel area. They told us he’d have the biggest kennel they had which was pleasing.
Except we saw the area. To put it succinctly, Sam said “It looks like the holocaust.”
It really did look like a pound. Dark, no windows, concrete and just…grey. Grim. Brown. Lonesome. There was a brick wall separating Har from the dog next to him (which I knew he’d hate) and a small, slightly-raised hard, plastic platform to serve as what I would assume a bed. I immediately felt a pang of guilt (well, several) because I completely forgot to bring any blankets for him to lay on. The man assured me they let the dogs out three times a day.
I told him to stay and be good and walked out to the car. I stopped and looked at Sam as we were getting in and said, “He’ll be ok, right?” “Yes, he’ll be fine, sweetie.”
I think we *maybe* got five minutes down the road and I asked him if we could go get him a blankie and a few other toys. Fourty human dollars later, I come back bearing gifts…I’m sure the man thought we were insane.
“Do you want me to give them to him or would you like to?” the man asked me.
Knowing I’m going to sound insanely crazy about my animal, I asked if I could. I brought him his things and he never looked sadder…maybe I imagined it a bit. But he really tried to follow us as we locked him back in.
Fast forward to coming home to an empty, quiet, dog-less and roommate-less house. No drooley-water rivers on the floor, no sandy paw-tracks on the floor, no whining, no dog hair, no gross mouth noises while he licks himself, no wagging medieval-weapon-tail clearing tables and knocking over full beers (he’s an alcohol abuser, people!!)
“Can we go rescue him tomorrow?” I asked Sam.
Because I saw the look on his face when we walked into the house and I know it matched the look on mine. Call us crazy and pathetic but we couldn’t even board our dog for OUR HONEYMOON. Our house wasn’t home without him. Every time we opened the drawer that holds the laser-pointer, we expected to hear his nails clicking around in the kitchen. I found myself asking if the dog was outside in my head several times…but he was in jail.
We canceled our honeymoon in Asheville, went to get him the next day and stayed home ALL WEEK. We did go to Raleigh on Saturday and had a great time, though. We did home improvements, went to bed at ten and enjoyed waking up and snugging with our pup every day. We ate well, drank often, sat on Granny’s porch swing and said cheers to being married, to staying married and to our amazing little family.
I won’t ever forget when half-drunk Sam looked at me when we were sitting on the couch, dog’s elbows cutting into our foot bones while he snored away, and said, “I’m really glad we decided to stay home.” And he smiled.
So, call us good dog-parents but we’re still pathetic…and so wonderfully happy and lucky to be.
But so, so pathetic.