A Week At Patti’s.

Buddy

Buddy and I are back from Patti’s and the breeding was a success but it was the longest week of my life even though it wasn’t even a week, just 4 1/2 days! It reminded me of that science trip back in grade 7; it was supposed to be a “reward” for the students with the top marks; a week away but I was cold, hungry, got this horrible stomach flu and was sick and the bullies wouldn’t leave me alone and I couldn’t wait to get home. That’s how it was at Patti’s. We’re still friends but we could never be room-mates and I’ll never stay over at her place ever again. I was cold, hungry, kept getting scolded(it reminded me when I lived with my aunt as a kid for a couple of years) and I was utterly miserable, so much so that when I got to church for Ash Wednesday( there was a church a few blocks away from her place I could walk to) the tears just started flowing; I just felt so safe in the church, so at home, my sanctuary; it just all came out. At first I thought it might have been a break thru but it actually ended up being a breakdown and I had so many anxiety attacks that week. I’m a wreck.

The breeding went well though and Buddy’s wish(to get laid) came true. He is no longer a virgin. The first day Chloe( the female Dachshund, Patti’s dog) would flip her tail side to side and let him sniff her not not mount her, but the second day she’d wiggle her sassy ass at him inviting him, Come tap this booty…here’s a sweet piece of ass….come and get it…here it is big boy… flirting with him and he tried to hump her but could never hit the hole; he was off target and could never quite hit the mark so to speak but then on the third day he nailed it, literally, and they got a “tie”( where they successfully get stuck together for about 10 minutes and can’t be separated) and they achieved this 4 times overall plus a few “mini” ones in-between so she’s most likely going to be pregnant.After the deed was done Buddy would just recline back in my arms with this blissed-out look on his face, as if he was stoned, and then he would sleep the rest of the day, the poor old boy was just simply exhausted, but he was happy.

As for me, it didn’t go so well. First of all, just days before I arrived there was no heat in the bedroom( she has electric heating in each room of the apartment) so I was freezing every night and hardly slept, maybe 3-4 hours a night, plus the neighbours’ noises kept me up, and I could hear them from all sides; above and from both sides, and I was starving too as she hardly had any food and all she had in her fridge was 6 slices of bread, a bit of milk, a tub of margarine,and some frozen veggies. She went shopping on the third day and I gave her some $$$ and she asked Do you like cottage cheese? and I told her I love it….yet when I asked her later if I could have some on Friday( Lenten Fridays now; no meat) she goes, No, I have that with my breakfast and I won’t have enough! It has to last the rest of the month. I don’t have any more $$$ to shop until then. Then I asked if I could have some cheddar cheese instead and she wouldn’t let me have that either, saying she needed that for the salsa dip she was making for her potluck dinner on the weekend. I was sleep deprived, starving, bags under my eyes, and every little thing I did ( or didn’t) do was wrong, as she’s this obsessive perfectionist neat freak and she always kept yelling at me, scolding me and berating me for every little thing I felt like I was at home. I also didn’t have any TV or InterNet for the week as she doesn’t have cable and she does InterNet on her cell phone but the print is too small for me to see and the keys too tiny I don’t have the dexterity to type on that and it would take me 5 minutes just to type out one word, and then she said I could use the wireless keyboard on the TV (she has widescreen TV in every room) except neither of us could figure out how to set it up so I was basically cut off from the rest of the world the entire time.

BuddyAndChloe

Everything had to be “just so” and I couldn’t do this, touch that, sit here, use this or that, and she even wanted me to wipe off the toilet seat and bath tub after every use and I said f*ck that (oh, and she swears even more than I do, every second word was f*ck this-and-that) and she told me to leave my Mukluk boots out in the hallway as she didn’t want them inside but I refused, No way! I paid over 200$ for those boots, I’m not leaving them out i the hallway; someone will steal it! and she says oh, no they won’t….but…I was so desperate for food I called my hubby in a panic and had him drop me off food and blankets( she only had one thin sheet and thin blanket on my bed and didn’t have any extra linens and it was so cold) and he came by when we were out so he just left it in the hallway in front of the door….and my mother said she’d packed me spanakopita and some frozen dinners….but I never got them….they weren’t there….someone had taken them. She only had 2 bath towels as well and I could only use a certain one and had to use the same musty towel for 4 days and it was getting mouldy, stinky, and mildewy and she said it was because I’m dirty even though I have a bath every morning and she said her towel doesn’t smell like that and I told her I use a clean towel for each bath and it’s bacteria and it just needs to be washed. I also did this epic diarrhrea and all day she laid into me how much I stunk up the entire apartment and she said that her shit doesn’t stink like that and she kept putting me down and shaming me for it….she literally thinks her shit doesn’t stink.

She also kept scolding me that I used the “wrong” frying pan, or that I was using the “wrong” spatula with the pan, or the “wrong” stove element, and freaked out when I fried with oil instead of margarine, and she dawdles and takes forever with everything and it was 7 pm and no dinner and she said she has to wash the dishes first, before dinner can be started so I suggested how about I cook the macaroni and beef and she does the dishes, so it saves time and she said no, the dinner  absolutely can’t be started until after the dishes are done and it took her forever and then when I finally did get to make dinner she didn’t like the way I did it so she shoved me aside and took over and she limited how much I could eat. When I washed my dishes after she also would lay into me that I put my knife in the dish rack the “wrong” way. It was always things like that. She also would rip into me to get my feet off the couch, that I wear my socks to bed and that left dust lint particles all over her sheets (??????) and as soon as I got up on the last day she whipped the bedsheets and pillowcases off proclaiming they were filthy and had to be washed before she could ever use them again, which I found to be insulting.

I also wasn’t allowed to sit here, touch this, or go near that, and she was always yelling at me to shut up saying my voice is too loud and she didn’t want the neighbours to hear us talking as she’s convinced they’re spying on her, and one day she went out and when she came back she found both dogs and I curled up together alseep on the couch and she was furious and really wailed on me; I thought she was going to kick me out right then and there, I don’t want dog hair on my couch! She also told me to wash out my used pop cans before recycling….WTF? wash garbage? and she got really mad when I brought Buddy’s poop bags inside and threw them in her garbage….she doesn’t want her garbage to stink…..it’s garbage….it stinks. She also got mad at me for letting Buddy pee too “close” to the apartment, not wanting the neighbours to see, fearing someone will complain and blame her.

It was so bad I had several anxiety attacks and this massive headache on the last day ( probably my BP sky-rocketing due to the stress) and I was literally trembling and shaking and I called home begging my hubby to come get me and he was over and hour late and I just broke down crying, please, just come and get me outta here! Come rescue me! I just wanna go home! I felt like a prisoner of war, hungry, sleep deprived , and demoralized I was a wreck. I didn’t want to mention the stud fee either but my mother insisted and Patti freaked out and she was insanely offended and mad and she ripped into me, I’m not paying you nothing! You got Buddy for free! This is just a favour between friends! ( the standard is the stud dog owner either gets a puppy in exchange or the fee equal to the cost of a puppy once sold) and I told her I’d only want a puppy if, God Forbid, Buddy should die and then I’d want one of his puppies as it would be a part of him, like I’d still have a piece of him with me, and she tries to rip me off with that,too, saying, Ok, ….unless…..I’ve already promised the puppies to my kids or something, then I won’t give you any…OMG!  This is supposed to be my friend and she’s screw me over like this?

I found out she’s racist, too, she said the reason they left Toronto when her kids were young as she wanted them to grow up with and marry their own kind, meaning white people, and huffed that they were practically the only kids that didn’t have brown skin or black hair and she wants her grandchildren to look like her and not have people think they’re adopted or she’s babysitting and then tries to “justify” it by saying animals stick with their own kind; foxes stick with foxes, dogs with dogs, and not with cats, for example, and I told her she’s a RACIST AND THAT WE’RE ALL THE SAME KIND, HUMAN KIND AND THE SAME SPECIES. I told her I want my kids to marry someone they love, it doesn’t matter what colour they are, what religion they are, or where they’re from.

I secretly got “revenge” on her though. I know it’s childish, but it made me feel good. I stuck it to her and her need for cleanliness, orderliness and perfection: she has no idea( and that’s half the fun) but  know and have the secret satisfaction: I licked a spoon and dug out a couple of good heaping spoonfuls of cottage cheese right out of the conatainer and ate it and then just put it back, her none the wiser, and I rubbed my butt back and forth in her pristine tub, smooshing it around back and forth, and I shaved my rude-part with her razor. I also had wanted to rub her toothbrush in my butt-crack too but I couldn’t find it. When I got back home my mother also snickered, I guess it’s really not so bad here afterall, is it? except it still is, just in a different way. It was still a nice break away from my toxic family and the cruel way they treat me, and, in fact,  as soon as I walked in the door it started. They couldn’t even wait to start hassling me. The 10 year old greeted me back with, Oh, no, you’re back! I hope Buddy dies! and in my sleep-deprived state I had taken my pills out and forgot where I put them and I was frantic and panicking thinking I’d left them at her place and the 14 and 16 YR old kept laughing, mocking, and making fun of me, revelling in my distressed state. Yeah, welcome home. Some things will never change. I hate my life. As for Patti, we’re still friends( although not in the same way and my perspective has changed), but I’m never staying over at her place ever again.