FROM A DISTANCE
So, I am sitting
in a Midwest Starbucks producing my version of “work”. Of course, I have a handsome and very comfortable
ergonomic desk and chair at home that I
could be utilizing. However, this week WE are entertaining
Max, a mid-sized, white, furry, and frisky
dog. Max will come to visit US from time to time due to shared custody with HALF of US!
Now, don’t get me
wrong; Max is reasonably handsome and appears to have quite an interesting
personality. But I do not purposely choose to share space with a dog; or any
other animal for that matter. I just don’t.
I know that Dog Lovers
everywhere are simply enraged to read such a blog and may even consider it
pointless and offensive.
I request that you
please give me the opportunity to explain myself…
A King Is Born
In approximately
1973, when I was a little girl, we had a beautiful German Shepherd, whom we
lovingly named King. King lived in our backyard from the time we acquired him
as a cute little puppy. King never lived inside our home and he was never
invited in for a visit. King had no idea he was missing something inside the home because he had everything he required
outside the home.
As King grew older
and bigger, I became somewhat apprehensive about playing with him due to his “loving”
assertiveness. But my brothers kept him busy, fed, and provided him with plenty
of play time. Eventually, I began admiring King from a distance.
One day following
a play date with one of my neighborhood friends, I returned home only to
discover a large black trash bag laying alongside the curb near the corner of
our house. As I curiously approached the bag, I heard an old women’s voice yell
out to me, “Don’t open that bag, little girl!”
I opened the bag anyway.
I was horrified to discover that King had been mutilated after being struck by
a truck, earlier that day.
I still see that
vision as though a photo hanging in the back room of my mind, behind a closed
door that reads ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.
Sheba, Queen Shepherd
Years
passed and my family abandoned the lakeside city of Michigan to return to our
city of origin. We moved into a home blocks away from the city zoo and I, of
course, felt that was a fabulous coup.
One
of our new neighbors had a full-blooded German Shepherd which had recently
given birth to a litter of puppies. There was only one female pup and I had the
luxury of choosing to adopt her. I thought she would be the perfect replacement for our beloved King. Therefore,
I affectionately named her Sheba, for she was the queen of the litter.
Unfortunately,
my parents divorced soon after the relocation but my mother retained custody of
Sheba. We moved across town that spring in the middle of the second semester,
resulting in my brothers and me having to attend yet another “new” school. However,
our “new” home was much nicer than the latter and it had a garage for Sheba!
While my younger
brothers and I instantly made new friends, my older brothers were not as lucky. Instead, they accumulated several
enemies because of the attention they garnered from the women (my brothers are
extremely handsome)! One, some, or all those enemies burned down our garage
that summer in retaliation for my brothers looks and impact on the neighborhood
women.
Later that year, on
a cold and snowy winter morning, Sheba,
was hit by a car.
Saint Bernard
Fast forward to
2004. My fiancé and I were returning from
a Saturday afternoon of Christmas shopping. I exited the car and
headed toward the mailbox to retrieve any letters and circulars. Suddenly, I
heard the large thundering bark of dog moving in
my direction. I turned my head only to discover it was my neighbor’s, Saint Bernard. As the dog attempted a leap
upon my back, my fiancé yelled out his name. His voice sounded similar to the
Saint Bernard's owner which caused the dog to stop dead in his tracks, turn, and
retreat to his backyard.
My
fiancé found me lying on the ground, following a failed attempt to jump on the
hood of a car across the street from my house. My brand new jeans were torn, my
knee bleeding, and my chest and stomach hurt form the impact of hitting the
side of the car.
When
the neighbors returned home that evening, I called and informed them of what
had happened. They, of course, were in a state of shock and disbelief, citing
that their Saint Bernard was no more than a “Loving Ball of Fluff”.
My
neighbors reluctantly apologized, agreed
to repair their fence, and promised it would never happen again. Within weeks, they
stopped by to inform me that they had to have their beloved Saint Bernard “put
to sleep”. Reportedly, their veterinarian discovered that the dog had an inoperable
brain tumor, which explained his recent irrational behavior.
I
quickly expressed my condolences, while secretly rejoicing of his demise. Sorry
☹
Dog Lovers
“A new study published in the
journal Science reveals the fascinating reason why we feel so close to our
furry companions: When humans and dogs look into each other’s eyes, both get a
boost of the feel-good hormone oxytocin, which is the same
hormone behind the special bond between new parents and their babies.
To reach their results, researchers had 30 dog-and-human pairs come into a
lab to consider each other’s eyes and give urine samples. Oxytocin
concentrations were then measured in the human and animal samples. In the end,
the dogs had a 130 percent rise in oxytocin levels, and owners
showed a 300 percent increase, regardless of gender.
Your pets do a lot more than just make you feel happiness and love: They
can also help lower your cholesterol, relieve stress, and boost your
self-esteem.”
Thanks, But No Thanks
For
the record, I love all manner of life. This fact includes a love for DOGS!
However,
I have raised 3 children and entertaining 4 grandchildren, in addition to
adopting a vegetarian lifestyle and daily exercise routine. Therefore, I have
no need of “dog love” to lower my cholesterol, relieve my stress, or boost my
self-esteem.
Live
with or entertain the company of a dog?
No
thank you!
I
have decided to enjoy dogs (all animals) from a distance.
Celexy
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