I’ve been thinking about the pets a lot today.
As most of you know, my dog is a constant issue. This week he’s developed some sort of allergy from who-knows-where, and he has chosen to express his discomfort by yapping for hours at his own ass throughout the night at random times. It is unbelievable. No amount of discussion will change his mind on this point, and I got so frustrated at 5 am that I shook him and yelled into his terrified face, and then got up again and smacked his ass repeatedly at 5:30 am, which then shut him up for a short while (until he felt his back end needed another talking to) but kept me awake feeling shitty and weepy and wondering how I have failed as a pet owner that I’m actually hitting my dog in rage and frustration
I have had two dogs before this one who were amazing, magical, genius pals who went with me everywhere. One was a Pomeranian named Bean, and after her came a Peke named Panda. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about and miss Panda. I purchased both dogs as puppies before I really had an awakened consciousness about the sea of homeless animals out in the world (even though I worked as a volunteer at the Humane Society as a teenager—heartbreaking).
When Panda died I wanted to do the right thing and adopted his doppelganger—abused, abandoned Winter. And though Drew and I both love him, it’s like having a retarded child. He’s just not an easy dog and after 3 and a half years of stress we regularly talk about putting him down. I just don’t have the heart to do what feels like another abandonment.
Now this whole Vick thing is happening and it’s been making me think about my own role in the world as an animal lover. I feel like a hypocrite in some ways. I am not ready to give up leather. Though very seldom, I eat meat on occasion. I work at a store where fur is sold, regardless of the heated arguments I have put up against it. Though I’ve gotten rid of most of my vintage fur coats, there are a couple I’m not ready to part with yet. And I yearn to have a tiny, fancy breeder-bought dog that will trot alongside me happily to work every day.
I honestly believe that we have no right to use animals the way we do. And I believe that because domesticated animals count on us exclusively for their well-being we have been handed a sacred trust and responsibility that must be honored. Every time we violate that trust with abuse or neglect, we violate our own selves.
I hear from people occasionally who state that animal rights people are so into animals that they don’t pay any attention to other problems in the world that are, in their minds, more important – e.g., child abuse, world hunger, genocide or war. I do care very much about those other issues, but for whatever reasons animals are what move me to action, and I feel I must put my energy where I am directed. I also know that the environment would be greatly improved if we cut down on our use/abuse of animals as food, so to me those are two issues that go hand in hand.
Anyway, I’m rambling a little, I guess, and not sure what my point is. My friend Angelo has a friend named William Kay who submitted an anti-dog fighting video to the Humane Society and watching the submissions broke my heart a little. Every one was devastating and William’s was really powerful. If you want to check them out and vote they’re HERE. Make sure you have something cheerful to watch afterwards, though. Anyway, then I went to bed in the hopes of getting to a class at the gym at 10 am, and was instead kept up all night long by one example of my own imperfect attempts at making a difference in the world. I feel guilty that I hit him and guilty that I am not out on the frontlines the way many of my friends are.
The one positive note that I can see at the moment is that Vick and his friends have brought the issue of dogfighting to the public eye more than any amount of bulletin posting or petition signing could do. And that’s one step towards a world without suffering and it brings me a small amount of comfort.
All right, gonna pull myself out of this doggie funk and go get a mani/pedi, return some overdue phone calls, give the dog an anti-itch bath, and hopefully see some of you rock stars at Dirty Bomb tonight.
I got some nice emails from everyone on this and some friends at Dirty Bomb also mentioned it last night. Thanks everyone. I gave that rotten Peke a bath with some medicated shampoo and voila! No more barking at his ass. Right before we went on vacation I used a cheaper shampoo bc I ran out of the usual stuff, and I think it’s been bugging him ever since. He’s still a pain in the ass but I did get a full night’s sleep last night and I’m touched that everyone is concerned.
What it’s like inside my brain during the meditation portion of yoga class:
Shit, are we supposed to have palms up or palms down? Why is that guy breathing like that? Is anyone else grossed out by earthy yoga dude’s inappropriate sighing? Blech!…La la la…Did I order too many nun costumes? Does anyone really want to be a French maid anymore? What about stockings, should I get more plain white ones? Nah, last Halloween we had too many…Dum de dum de dum…I can’t believe I got those Louboutins on sale, wish I had somewhere to wear them… I wonder how the new shoe floor is at Saks. Maybe Kim will want to go with me next time she’s in town… Okay, are we still supposed to be lying down? I can’t hear a frigging word she’s saying from back here. Everyone’s probably sitting up while I lay here with my eyes closed, looking like an idiot… I like this laying down in the dark portion of the class, though. The only thing missing is a masseuse. Yay! Although I doubt this is calorically effective in any way: “Miss Stoger, I would just like to say that physical education in this school is a disgrace. I mean, standing in line for forty minutes is hardly aerobically effective. I doubt I’ve worked off the calories in a stick of Carefree gum”…Crap! Why do all roads lead back to Clueless? …FOCUS, MARY, FOCUS… Okay, what’s the thought for the day, oh yeah, forgiveness. Forgiveness… forgiveness… hmm… Well, I can tell you one thing, I’m not forgiving that wall-eyed little bitch right now. I can’t believe the balls on that twit, she has no idea who she’s fucking with. I will crush her like the insect she is. I will pull her heart out through her throat. I will tear her intestines with my teeth, I will… Damn it!! Not the lesson for today! There will be no intestine chewing this evening! Oh Lord, why did you make my heart so black? I want to be good, it’s just that people keep getting on my nerves… All right, just let it go for now…Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Shoulders down, chin up, lengthen, lengthen…Oh great. What is that? Am I getting my period?…Wait a minute, is everyone sitting up while I’m laying here festering?? DAMN IT!! Now I look like an idiot!! Sigh…
I have returned from a vacation in the woods at my mother’s house and am wishing we were still there. The weather was great and we swam nearly every day in crystal clear water. I didn’t bring a camera so there are no new photos, but there’s an old blog HERE with photos of the delightful fairyland that is our regular vacation spot and the home of my family.
Constant eating. And I do mean constant. Eggplant Parmesan, clam linguini, stirfries, big breakfasts, rhubarb pie, peach pie, chocolate cake, lemon cake, zucchini bread, banana bread, and the master of them all, chocolate pie with whipped cream. Luckily Michigan is the land of the giant ass so no matter how much you eat you’re still skinnier than most people in Meijers:
By those standards my entire family is anorexic and Drew and I used this as an excuse to eat like we were going to the chair. I also got this from a very nice scale in the mall:
It only cost 50 cents and my sister got a similar message. We both agreed it was a bargain at any price and celebrated by heading to the food court to eat fried food and jeer at the locals.
And speaking of Meijers, my sister claims that the elderly recoiled from me in terror in the grocery store, but I choose to believe that they were simply in awe of my natural beauty and waiflike physique.
Little Ninjas: My three year old nephew in a black satin karate uniform frog hopping and shouting “ai, ai” while punching a mitt held up by his sensei (or whatever you call them). May have been one of the cutest things ever witnessed, and I don’t even really like kids. As an added bonus we got to watch a crazed sugar addict named Austin get booted out halfway through class for running around wildly waving his arms in the air, completely unable to focus for more than five seconds. He got two or three time outs but he was so manic that ousting became inevitable. His very drained mother was a pretty blonde who couldn’t have been older than 22 and carried a baby on her hip. I felt so bad for her that I forgot my loathing of Republican housewifey breeder types for a moment. She looked completely dazed, like one minute she was in a prom dress wondering if she’d remembered to take her birth control pill that morning and then the next woke up with screaming kids hanging off of her.
This asshole barking all night:
Turns out that on top of being epileptic, snappy with strangers and nearly blind, he’s also afraid of the dark and unable to sleep for more than an hour in strange places. On top of that he’s bizarrely allergic to something in the country which makes him scratch and chew at himself noisily late into the night. We finally set him up in the garage with a night light and a bed as far away from everyone as possible so we could get a little sleep. Well, everyone except my mother whose house is closer to the garage than the guest house we were in. Drew made me promise that the dog is staying behind next year, which will save about $300 in flying costs anyway. Luckily I managed to talk my friend Alison into staying with and feeding the herd of cats left behind, so next year I’m just going to casually leave the dog in the apartment without mentioning it to her.
There was a heated argument with my brother in which he stated that I am so accustomed to people kissing my ass that I have grown bitchy and mean. To which I replied that he must have a short memory indeed because I was bitchy and mean long before anyone paid any attention to me whatsoever. He also kept using the phrase “you people” which leads me to believe that the 3-pronged matriarchy that is my mother, my sister, and myself may be grinding him down a bit. Here is a photo I took with my phone while torturing him very early in the morning as he tried to sleep:
Hours and hours and hours of Oblivion: Elder Scrolls IV on the Xbox 360. Hi, I’m Mary and I’m a total nerdbomb in disguise. This is what it really looks like inside my brain:
I got to level 3 and into the Arcane University as a mage apprentice and was all set to fight a vampire as soon as I found some lockpicks to get into his home, and then sadly, sadly it was time to fly back to New York.
So I know there are some overdue phone calls and emails waiting, and there are a ton of blogs out there that haven’t been read. But right now I’ve gotta go purchase Oblivion for the PC.
Oh, and I’m off the wagon, which was celebrated last night with Jagermeister and Dano surprising me with an anatomy lesson entitled “the brain”. Yippee!