An amazing photograph I took of Snowflake on September 18, 2005 when he was exactly 18 months old.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Willow Boy
An amazing photograph I took of Snowflake on September 18, 2005 when he was exactly 18 months old.
And Then There Was One...
It is painfully quiet without Gingko the pug and LuLu the lhasa in the house. There are just three of us now... the baby, The Chidler and me. Hey, three is a magic number. A good number. When I came home from work I immediately noticed the funk was gone. I vaccummed and scrubbed all the floors. I put away their dishes.
The three of us went for our nightly trek. When we came by the tattoo shop I noticed a young tribalized couple sitting on the steps. On her lap was a brand new pug puppy. We walked over and I told them I had just euthanized my black baby boy. They were sad for us. I see it as a sort of signal that my sweet pug is okay, peaceful. How totally weird though. I started to tear up a bit but grabbed ahold of myself. I told them to enjoy that sweet puppy.
This morning I tortured myself by attempting to find any stray black pug hairs on the floor. A guy named Phil once wrote that if there was a nuclear war, all the cockroaches running around afterward would be wearing fur coats made of pug hair because the existence of a pug hair is measured in half lives. I beg to differ. I found one or two, but it was difficult.
I take really amazing photographs and thankfully there are many of the dogs. I show the baby the pugs picture and I say "who is that?" and he chimes back in his sweet little voice "Gink". I don't want him to forget.
The real joy that animals bring us cannot be compared to our human relationships. No one can offer us unconditional love the way a pet can. Everyone says that, but it is true. There are too many dynamics in our relationships with other people. These dogs went with me through my twenties after college, when I truly thought I knew it all. They were with me when I realized that I didn't know a damn thing. They loved me the same.
How many people can you say that about?
loss of a pet
The three of us went for our nightly trek. When we came by the tattoo shop I noticed a young tribalized couple sitting on the steps. On her lap was a brand new pug puppy. We walked over and I told them I had just euthanized my black baby boy. They were sad for us. I see it as a sort of signal that my sweet pug is okay, peaceful. How totally weird though. I started to tear up a bit but grabbed ahold of myself. I told them to enjoy that sweet puppy.
This morning I tortured myself by attempting to find any stray black pug hairs on the floor. A guy named Phil once wrote that if there was a nuclear war, all the cockroaches running around afterward would be wearing fur coats made of pug hair because the existence of a pug hair is measured in half lives. I beg to differ. I found one or two, but it was difficult.
I take really amazing photographs and thankfully there are many of the dogs. I show the baby the pugs picture and I say "who is that?" and he chimes back in his sweet little voice "Gink". I don't want him to forget.
The real joy that animals bring us cannot be compared to our human relationships. No one can offer us unconditional love the way a pet can. Everyone says that, but it is true. There are too many dynamics in our relationships with other people. These dogs went with me through my twenties after college, when I truly thought I knew it all. They were with me when I realized that I didn't know a damn thing. They loved me the same.
How many people can you say that about?
loss of a pet
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Clean Them or Kill Them
I have been keeping them clean. Everyday they get the swab down, a once over with baby wipes or a warm washcloth. She isn't so bad, but he is just crustified. Thanks to her incessant grooming of his ears with a warm comforting tongue he has chronic infections. There are things living in his ears that came from his ass. Why? Because she is also his asslicker. I have a song I sing to the baby about this that always makes him smile and giggle. It's only one simple obnoxious line consisting of "Lick Your Own Ass Lu-Lu / Lick Your Own Ass Lu-Lu"
They have been with me through so much: alone and pregnant, now the mamma of an 18 month old bambino, the death of my 27 year old brother, everything that happens to all of us in life.
He is almost blind... scratching his bulbous eyes on the thorny wild berry vines intertwined around his beloved concord grapes. The grape vine is over 80 years old. Every summer for the last 11 years Gingko has found his way to the lush fragrant plant growing on the side of my house, disappearing into the foliage, feasting on it's blue fruit, snorting like a crazed pig.
She is the Alpha. Years ago I dubbed her the "saucy Bitch". The oldest and smallest, she is also the most controlling. Never letting the other two have too much fun. A sweet terror. She has breathing spasms now and a big lump on her side. She still hasn't realized at the ripe old age of 13 that she farts. Everytime it happens, she whizzes around as if she's been cattle-prodded from beyond. This too inspired another one liner for the baby. A punkish tome that goes like this- "Lu-Lu and the ASS GHOSTS/ Lu-Lu and the ASS GHOSTS!"
Two months ago my mother commented on Lu-Lu's Yeti like appearance, "Clean them or kill them!" I got her groomed, but now it is time to let the two of them go. I vacillate thinking hmmm... they were so spritely this morning, forgetting the day last month when Gingko couldn't even get up to go outside. There never seems to be a right time. My sweet loves, you will always be my first babies... Forgive me.
pets, loss, euthanasia
They have been with me through so much: alone and pregnant, now the mamma of an 18 month old bambino, the death of my 27 year old brother, everything that happens to all of us in life.
He is almost blind... scratching his bulbous eyes on the thorny wild berry vines intertwined around his beloved concord grapes. The grape vine is over 80 years old. Every summer for the last 11 years Gingko has found his way to the lush fragrant plant growing on the side of my house, disappearing into the foliage, feasting on it's blue fruit, snorting like a crazed pig.
She is the Alpha. Years ago I dubbed her the "saucy Bitch". The oldest and smallest, she is also the most controlling. Never letting the other two have too much fun. A sweet terror. She has breathing spasms now and a big lump on her side. She still hasn't realized at the ripe old age of 13 that she farts. Everytime it happens, she whizzes around as if she's been cattle-prodded from beyond. This too inspired another one liner for the baby. A punkish tome that goes like this- "Lu-Lu and the ASS GHOSTS/ Lu-Lu and the ASS GHOSTS!"
Two months ago my mother commented on Lu-Lu's Yeti like appearance, "Clean them or kill them!" I got her groomed, but now it is time to let the two of them go. I vacillate thinking hmmm... they were so spritely this morning, forgetting the day last month when Gingko couldn't even get up to go outside. There never seems to be a right time. My sweet loves, you will always be my first babies... Forgive me.
pets, loss, euthanasia
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