Thinking about Pets

The other day was National Love Your Pet Day. Maybe I was a bit condescending when I wrote about it, but a pet is more than a one-day-a year commitment. I don't even like the word "pet."

Jeff and I've gotten a lot of crap about how we love/care for our dogs even from fellow dog lovers. We can deal with that. We'll gladly admit that we spoil our dogs.

Here's a story to prove the point: someone gave us filet mignon for Spike when Jeff helped with his computer. As I cooked the filet, I made a chick pea stew for us. (By the way, the chickpea stew sucked.) When we went on a NYC getaway, I heard a friend that we took Spike with us because we didn't have kid. Whatever.

Together Jeff and I have had two pets: Spike and Lola. Spike had a tough adjustment, but only for a few weeks. I remember the first time in the car, he threw up.That worried me because we wanted to take him places. Luckily that was a one-off situation.

Lola's adjustment has been tougher. She apparently had a much harder life; we'll never know for sure. I remember when I picked up a yardstick to measure something--this was after a year with us--and she ran from the room. Someone must have abused her.

Lola's made a lot of progress, but is still often fearful. We do what we can to love her and make her feel safe. That's one of our most important jobs.

National Love Your Pet Day

is today's holiday You're supposed to spoil or pamper your pet.

But to me, a special treat for a special day isn't the important thing. The important thing is to be there for your pet everyday.

I took Lola for about an hour's walk from Mathews to Oystershell Parks today. That's not especially special. But Lola knows that Jeff and I love her and will take care of her everyday.

That's what matters.

A New Frustration Dream

Last night I dreamed about my class. In my real class, I have a small whiteboard, so I also use a portable whiteboard that I carry from another room.

In the dream, I had to hunt for the whiteboard. After someone found it for me, I realized it wasn't on a stand/easel. I had to go to some kind of committee to get approval. The next thing I knew, I had wasted 45 minutes of class, and I hadn't gotten permission yet. Frustrating, but at least it was a new frustration dream. It didn't involve not being able to telephone someone.

About a week ago, my brother told me about his own frustration dream. The gist of it was that he was showering in a hotel room and realized that it was someone else's room. He was trying to hurry but couldn't get the soap off and didn't have good shower pressure.

We got talking and apparently he also has dreams about having trouble finding toilets that aren't in the open: this is one of my recurring dreams. Could it be our toilet training?

First Abandoned Book of 2019

After I finished Game Change, I spend a few days reading magazines; several had piled up again. When I got back to a book, I wanted something different from my last few selections (The Devil in the White City, Why Baseball Matters, and Game Change.)

I picked up Daphne by Justine Picardie. I re-read the dust jacket and wasn't sure why I had even bought it. But I made my choice: I got into bed and started to read.

I was unhappy from the first three lines. "To begin. Where to begin? To begin at the beginning. wherever that might be."

I kept reading--11 pages or so--but there was too much repetition, too many long sentences. My first thought was that the prose was florid, but I don't think that's quite the right word. It was melodramatic.

I used to feel obligated to finish every book I started. At some point I decided it just isn't worth it. Instead of forcing myself through Daphne, I started The Witches. Now that was a good choice.