I: In Which the Dogs and I Adjust to our New Life

In August 2007, the company for which I've worked for 20 years underwent a big management change, the result of years of less-than-stellar financials under the supplanted managers. Soon, predictably, familiar faces started disappearing, creating a vibe like that Twilight Zone episode where the omnipotent kid keeps turning adults into monstrosities whenever they piss him off, and everyone has to pretend that everything is hunky dory. "Jeez, look what you did to the COO. Uh, that was good! Real good!!! Now wish him out to the field, quick."

By December, I too had been shown the door, or, if you prefer, wished out to the field.

December was also when my wife and I finally acknowledged that there was something fundamentally wrong with our marriage. We began marriage counseling, which led to a trial separation, which led to the realization that our marriage was over. We'll be divorced early next year.

The two events are not related, by the way. My wife didn't leave me because I was suddenly an only-nebulously employed writer. I tell you about my downsizing/layoff/shitcanning just to give you some idea of the state of uncertainty in which I now exist. I'm confident that I'll get another job at least as good as the last one, and soon enough.

Finding another wife, though, won't be so easy.

At the age of 47--which suddenly feels much, much older than it did just a few months ago--I am making the transition from married guy to reluctant bachelor. Call me RB. This blog is the story of my new paradigm.

I am not the only one making the transition from life with a female human to life with her absence, by the way. My dogs are along for the ride as well, and I have to say they're dealing with it a whole lot better than I am. I was worried that their adjustment would be difficult, given that my wife was by far the more attentive to them. I have since learned better; dogs live by their own version of The Three Pillars, namely "Eat--Void--Sleep." Anything that accommodates The Pillars is A-OK with them. Anything that interrupts them must be dealt with immediately.

Which no doubt explains why they were so frantic during our months of couples counseling. The previous years had witnessed our slowly drifting apart, but without our acknowledging it and, by and large, while we were cohabiting peacefully if not happily. The dogs were cool with that; if we were plopped down on the couch to drink wine and watch something on TCM, whatever dark clouds were passing through our heads were not their concern. Those final months, however, involved a lot of desperate efforts to reel each other back in, which meant lots of long, emotionally charged conversations. The dogs did not enjoy these any better than we did. If they were capable of articulate thought, it probably would have gone something along these lines: "Look!!!! The food givers are not happy! Perhaps they will stop giving food! We must run around in circles and howl like mad! NOW-OOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" In the end, they didn't care which of us went, but they were certainly glad to see one of us go. Order had been restored, and they were happy.

I'm wondering whether I can learn a lesson from the dogs. They have clearly moved on; our marriage is soooo yesterday to them. I'm not quite there yet.

On the other hand, they also love to roll in dead animals, and smell each others' asses, and eat worms.

So there you go.