August 16, 2011
wake up to a text from kisha in the next room “erasmus is having a seizure and pooping on my bed” jump out of bed, tangled in dirty clothes, clean clothes, books, zines, and bed clothes. they are both outside. erasmus seems fine but kisha is crying and shaking.
it is true erasmus has been acting weird. he shit in my room last week but i thought it was because of the storms. that and dave locking him in my room all day. then he shit in the basement twice. i thought this was because he doesn’t like dave. he generally hates cis-men – a dog raised primarily around queer individuals. the only lady person he has every not liked was my emotionally vague ex girlfriend, but even then there was an excuse. he doesn’t like when other people sleep in our bed.
the last pet i had that had a seizure i had to put down or asleep or whatever euphemism makes me feel not-too-terrible on any given day. it was sebastard the cat. i tell kisha this in a flat voice. this is one of those times i am going numb numb numb.
the flat voice sounds like my mother’s.
i had to call my parents. this is like getting in bed with the devil. when erasmus got an ear infection carrie loaned me the money to take him to the vet. these are the moments that my parents cherish. this is one for the record. when they scream “you are not an adult” because i am doing something they don’t like. something like selling my house and moving to detroit, like moving to the south side, like being queer, like being fat, like writing. you know, everything i just AM and love. it is those screaming moments (oh and you know, everything in between) when i imagine living in a cardboard box anything to never have to ask or take money from them again.
“you can’t even take care of yourself!” i can already hear them shouting some fight down the road. i can take care of myself, but it isn’t just me. it’s erasmus, too. they will change their attack plan. “you can’t even take care of a dog!”
i am going to sit outside with erasmus until i have to go to work. i can hear his extra long toenails clicking on the pavement as he races back-and-forth in the alley between fort mortgage and the three flat next door. he seems okay. pissing on every upright piece of grass (as well as some that aren’t so upright). kisha is going to hang with him until the vet appointment.
yes, i could start some online “please give me money” campaign. andrea owly is always stomping her foot when she complains about those things but honestly, people like erasmus more than they like me. i may be the brains, but he is the beauty in the relationship.
when we are living in that cardbox, i always imagine us healthy.