Sometimes you wake up to a gorgeous, brilliant day
but things just don’t fit together right, and what’s happening
in your heart doesn’t jive with the cool breeze tangling in your
hair, or the baby birds singing, because you’ve argued with
someone you love and you can’t stop thinking about how
we’re irrevocably destroying this beautiful planet.
I’m preparing some musings on this latter subject for
posting later, but for now I just need a little cheering up.
How about you? You know what makes me feel happy
when I feel sad? Doggies! My dogs in particular, but pups
in general tend to make me follow their example in life
and forget my cares and just concentrate on what’s good,
like belly rubs and snuffling and prancing. My dogs are
really, really good at all of those things. The funny thing
is that I was never, ever a dog person until a few years
ago. I grew up with a big, sweet pit bull named Dot who always
wanted to be right in the middle of all my intricate games of
doll-dress up or castle-building and loved to slobber obnoxiously
all over my face. She was an amazing dog who gave me a big
soft-spot for pit-bulls (don’t trust the hype! They are wonderful
dogs!) If you don’t believe, just consult Gala and Hank! See?

(drawing by Brad Neely)
I used to work at Toy Joy, (the best toy store in the world).
So did Brad Neely, though he left a few months before
I started, so we never met. I came to adore him through these amazing signs
and doodles he left in his wake. This sign endorsing the hobby of vampire
dog-massage was hung up by the false mustaches. I have no idea what it
was originally meant to promote, but it’s one of my favorite things ever.
If you’re not familiar with his genius, go check out his work and this:

When I was in middle-school, I lived in a neighborhood with
lots of trailer-trash dogs. Mean, embittered Rotties and Chows
hell-bent on getting a taste of teenage ankle. We’d sneak out
late at night and walk around aimlessly, smoking and vandalizing
things and they were the monsters we skirted. They’d freak us out
by barking ferociously, alerting all to the fact that we were shimmying
out of our bedroom windows. Being chased by a dog while riding a
bike is one of the scariest things ever. I only got bit by a dog once, and
I guess it was sort of my fault. I got off the school bus one day, and this
little kid with a kool-aid and BBQ-sauce mottled face invited me to peer
under his trailer to see his new puppies. The protective mama mutt bolted
out from the shadows like a pudgy arrow and attached herself to my leg,
ripping my dad’s ugly green corduroy pants I’d taken to wearing everyday.
(I was in that adolescent phase of wearing your dad’s oversized, ugly old
clothes and being incredibly awkward. Remember that?) It left a nasty bruise
and some punctures, and taught me something about not messing with wild
mamas and their young. Years later, I found myself in New York working for
a few months. There was a period of time during my stay there that I felt
incredibly isolated and cut-off from my fellow humans. I was unused to the
lack of eye-contact and greeting that big city folk tend to protect their souls
with. I’m from the South, and we say hello when we pass you on the street.
Everybody had their walls up to me except for the street-people and the dogs.
The dogs were always happy to see me, eager to smell me and get to know me
whilst their owners would tug at leashes and roll their eyes, in a hurry to get on
with the business of walking. My feelings about dogs were changing, and I
began to respect and appreciate them in a way that I never really had.

This is me with Dougal and Selma the Sideshow dogs and constant
companions of Harry and Elizabeth Anderson. I liked it when people misheard Dougal’s
name as “Doodles”, so that’s what I called him. They would get so excited
to see me that they would pee a little bit. Now, that’s enthusiasm!

This illustration by Marjorie Moore reminds me of Grrizelda and I.
I’d been a cat person my whole life, but after my best cat-friend
Junior died after 21 years of companionship, I just don’t know
that I will find that kind of connection again. Don’t get me wrong –
I love our kitties Loki and Rusty Jack-knife (except when they’re
doing very evil things like knocking in the ceiling and slaughtering
baby birds) I never imagined I would have that kind of deep
bond with a canine. I never had a dog of my very own before, and
it’s pretty intense. It’s a bit like having a furry child that can’t really speak.
I am so grateful for the love and loyalty our dogs give us – I wish we could
go to the pound and adopt 20 more. One day. Walk out in the woods with
your dog, or be with them late at night when you’re alone in the house.
If they’re worth a damn, they will always let you know when they smell or
hear something that we can’t. Even the littlest dog will throw themselves
at a much bigger opponent to protect the one they love. That’s so amazing
to me, and such an inspiration. I’ve been thinking a lot about the way that
humans and animals can transfer love and healing to each other – have
you experienced that before? Whether it’s your cat making biscuits of ecstasy
on you, and purring like a motor or your dog wagging and dancing in
apoplectic spasms of joy to see you come home, I feel that there’s something
deeper going on there. I’m really interested in the beneficial effects of spending
time with animals for the ill and elderly. Have you heard about these studies on
dogs sniffing out cancer? Amazing. I think they make us better people. I hope so.

Also, sometimes you can dress them up as elephants! My dog lets me floss
her teeth. Can you believe that? I barely can. We’ve been training her to be
patient and tolerant of bathing, foot-handling and now maybe even
tooth-brushing? (Okay, I just tried it, and she totally let me brush her teeth!
Best dog ever!) Something else I just thought of — dogs in other cities are
different. On Lamma Island in Hong Kong, all the dogs I encountered were
totally indifferent to me. They ran in dirty packs of smallish scrappers, similar
to the curs of Mexico, though the Mexican beach dogs are far friendlier.
We had a pack adopt us in Tulum, and their leader, El Jackalito even
followed us to a neighboring village. French dogs seemed quite snobby
to me (though I found the people I met in France to be very sweet and
personable!) What can you tell me about the dogs of the world? Do you
like dogs? Do you have a dog of your own? Tell me a dog story, please!
Oh, and I was just alerted to this:
Antique Pups from Teenangster
(Thank you Oola!)
Further reading:
Dog Days
Corazones quebrados y perros ciegos