Realizations – Yaz Chronicles IX

This morning while out on our usual morning walk, Yaz did something she’s never done before.

Some mornings we walk the neighborhood sidewalks instead of the hiking trail that lays just south of our home, as we did this morning.  I don’t particularly like walking along the streets that early in the day, but mostly there’s no traffic to speak of other than the newspaper delivery people.  And they know us and watch out for the pups.  Yaz stays on-leash the whole time now, anyway, as she’s shown that she’s too unpredictable otherwise.

This morning there was a bit more traffic than usual, as it’s a holiday shopping weekend.  At one intersection, an SUV came down the street toward us and Yaz stopped, turned, and watched the vehicle until it was well past.

That was the first indication she’s given that she realizes exactly what happened to her.  I wonder if she dreams of it, of the headlights bearing down on her and the sudden, excruciating pain.

I helped her through this morning’s episode, as I only want her to be cautious of moving vehicles, not terrified of them.  This is a new thing for her.  I hope to be able to avoid emotional trauma in the future for her.

Black, Blue & Bloody

I was taught as a child to equate material goods with “love.”  It took many years to unlearn that horrid concept and was never able to instill the idea in my sibs that giving a gift to someone was because you loved them, not because you wanted to show how much money you had.

This season, I’ve been listening to a few of my friends go on and on about how much they’re going to spend on gifts this year – people who, a few weeks earlier, were complaining about how little money they had, about how they might have to take on a second part-time job in order to survive.

I gave up trying to make them see how faulty their thinking was.  I just listen stoically and nod in the right places, while in my head I’m plotting the next chapter in my novel.  Instead of asking how come they can’t give gifts throughout the year instead of waiting for someone else to tell them what’s expected of them, I think about how nice the sun feels on the top of my head this time of year.

I’m not a Scrooge, though have come to despise what this season turns people into.  Yes, I know that our economy depends on the money people spend, especially this time of year.  But when did gift-giving become a competitive sport?  I’ve come to dub the “greedy consumer” season as Black, Blue and Bloody.  First, there’s “Black Friday” wherein people who really can’t afford to spend money on needless objects do so in order to keep greedy store owners – who mark up their products sometimes more than 200% – in the “black.”  Then follows “Blue Saturday” when those same people wake up with a stunning case of buyers’ remorse for all the money they spent.  Of course, then there’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday” where th0se people foolishly justify their outrageous spending habits and then battle their way back into stores to fight for great deals.

Pardon my ignorance, but WTF?  Was everyone raised in my family?  My family always equated “love” with “money.”  If someone felt your holiday gift was “sub-par” (meaning you didn’t spend as much as they thought you should on it), you were ostracized and heckled.   They were sure to buy a gift the following year that was simply ridiculous for you to show you how it felt to be unappreciated.  And woe be unto the person who decided that giving a gift from the heart (ie – handmade) was a good idea.

It was terrifying to witness the sudden transformation from human into monstrous of people you thought you knew.

So pardon me if I sit this season out.

Wake me up when it’s New Year’s. 

Blessed

Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.

- Albert Camus

Perhaps we can never be thankful enough for what the universe provides us with.

Three years ago, I wasn’t sure I was going to recover from the deadly virus that took over my body. Yet here I am.

Two weeks ago, I wasn’t sure if my dog was going to survive her accident. Yet she’s recovering very well and has become a more loving animal.

I am surrounded by kind and caring friends, a home that I adore, three amazing dogs that remind me every day what it’s like to be human and trust in the universe to provide what’s needed to survive, and the intelligence to recognize when something’s not working.  I have a job while others may not.  I have learned to love myself for who I am instead of trying to create someone I’m not based on false perceptions.

And for all this and much, much more…I give thanks.

La Revolucion!

TALKIN’ ABOUT A REVOLUTION

Lyrics by Tracy Chapman

Don’t you know
They’re talkin’ bout a revolution
It sounds like a whisper
Don’t you know
They’re talkin’ about a revolution
It sounds like a whisper

While they’re standing in the welfare lines
Crying at the doorsteps of those armies of salvation
Wasting time in the unemployment lines
Sitting around waiting for a promotion

Poor people gonna rise up
And get their share
Poor people gonna rise up
And take what’s theirs

Don’t you know
You better run, run, run…
Oh I said you better Run, run, run…
Finally the tables are starting to turn
Talkin’ bout a revolution

Last night I dreamt of a revolution.

Not a bloody war over religion or moral ideals, but a quiet revolution in which I was fighting on the side of Truth.  Personal Truth. I was guided by others who believed in the fight against the erosion of society – the degradation of communication, intelligence, common courtesy and the ways in which we humans treat one another. This perhaps came forth because of the struggle I experienced with the “emergency” animal hospital after Yaz’s accident. 

I don’t think there’s any coincidence that the hospital closed less than a week after I spoke out about their unethical treatment of not only my dog, but of me as the person who cares for her.  I knew during the entirety of the dream that that’s what it was really about. 

I awoke feeling that I had a strong sense of purpose in this life: to expose those whose private and personal agendas are built on the oppression and exploitation of others. 

Now, what I’m going to do with this information is something I will have to think on.

Word Has It…

Bits and pieces from the web and beyond:

• Stephen King has announced that he has an idea for a new Dark Tower book, the working title of which will be THE WIND THROUGH THE KEYHOLE.  He has not yet started this book and anticipates that it will be a minimum of eight months before he is able to begin writing it.

• Friend and fellow writer Margaret Yang wins the Ann Arbor Book Festival Short Story contest 2009.  Here is the story.
• Fan of Michael Connelly’s “Harry Bosch” series?  If so, you can read an excerpt from his newest release ‘Nine Dragons’ here.

• Author and playwright Jesse Kellerman (son of bestselling authors Jonathan and Faye Kellerman) has announced that he has recently submitted the completed manuscript for his next novel to his publisher.  If you haven’t enjoyed his unique storytelling style, I urge you to read Sunstroke and The Genius. You can find out more on his website.
• Just finished reading Dracula: The Un-Dead by Bram’s great-grandnephew Dacre Stoker (with Ian Holt).  It was definitely entertaining, mixing old-style melodrama with more modern action scenes.  Though I only rated it 4 stars (out of 5), I thought it was good!
• In the midst of reading Anne Rice’s newest novel, Angel Time, which (thankfully) veers away from the Jesus stories that I found to be entirely dreadful and boring.  As I’m only 100 pages into the newest, I’m finding it quite delicious so far!

Updates and Curiosities – Yaz Chronicles VIII

Yaz’s recovery is leaping forward.

She’s still favoring her front left leg, and the vet says she may have cracked one of her scapula bones, but because of a dog’s particular anatomy, he says it’s very difficult to detect.  And there would be nothing they could do about it anyway other than to keep her as sedentary as possible.

I laughed at that.  Yaz?  Sedentary?

She’s completely regained her former playfulness to the point where I must restrain her constantly.  She hasn’t regained her ability to run, yet, as her broken pelvis creates instability in her back legs.  Doc says that’ll take easily 12 weeks to show signs of recovery.

But…she received a very optimistic and enthusiastic checkup this morning.

On a related note:

Learned today that the Lafayette Emergency Animal Hospital, the one that demanded payment up front in order to save Yaz’s life, closed their doors permanently in that location, less than a week after our experience with them.

Now, I’m not taking any credit for that, for in hindsight, it appears they were already having financial difficulties – perhaps the reason behind their unreasonable and unethical demand for payment? – and this particular episode was the exposure that was needed in order to show them for what they truly were.

I can’t say that I’m happy that they closed.  I never stated that they didn’t care for Yaz properly.  In fact, they did exactly what they needed to do in order to stabilize her at the time.  It was the issue of emotional blackmail that was doled out to a distressed animal owner in a time of great need that was at issue.

However, there are several better hospitals in the area that can – and will – be utilized in the case of any future emergencies.

 

More Than This

I could feel at the time
There was no way of knowing
Fallen leaves in the night
Who can say where they’re blowing
As free as the wind
And hopefully learning
Why the sea on the tide
Has no way of turning…

“More Than This”

Roxy Music (Bryan Ferry)

Sometimes it would be nice to be able to peer into the future.  My future.  I wouldn’t want to know when the world will end…we have Hollywood for that.  I wouldn’t want to know the time and date of my own demise…that’s a piece of information best left alone.

I would like to be able to determine what the outcome of some of the choices I make will be ahead of time so I can make better ones.

I would like to know which people will bring heartache, strife, and drama into my world.  Likewise, I would like to be able to see into the hearts of others so I could help them with their troubles, if possible.

Being able to see into my own future might’ve avoided the mess with the local animal hospital over Yaz’s treatment, and their unethical emotional blackmail.  It might have also led me in a different direction where my current job is concerned.

What it comes down to is: there has to be more than this…the constant struggle for survival in a world that holds a careless disregard for anyone or anything.  It’s been awhile since I’ve found myself mired in the depths of this existential dilemma.  It does tend to bring out the poet in me, as if breaking things down into poetic thoughts will somehow aid in finding answers.  Perhaps it’s the season, or the recent loss of a friend through death.  Whichever, I am burrowing within to find the answers to questions that don’t seem to want to be answered.

Scenes from a Favorite Season

WINTER CONVERSATION – Joyce Wakefield

I listen to you explain the difference

between a right brain thought and a left.

I am distracted by the smell

of cold on your face.

I lick it away like a child

with an ice cream cone

sticky fingers and sweet tongue.

Aware that I have been here before
I pause in your words.I have slept in this flesh,
dreamed these winter bones.

Waking in the darkness between us
I hear frost sweeping the porch,
edging toward the morning.
I reach for your hand.

What, you whisper, voice hoarse with dream.
My lips, swollen with you, cold,
are silent.

Elegy for a Friend

In this chapel of vague connections
the pastor who didn’t know you
strokes the sadness. Soft as moths
the living answer the call,
fill the pews for an unexpected
farewell. Your children,
the reading of your work
make it easy to see the past
in a generous light.

A collector of jazz, butterflies
and old arguments, you’re first
to find out what doesn’t matter,
a list so long I should be scared
of all the things I claim as mine.
Relieved of the body’s
ambiguous realm, your memories
no longer turn on me,
their traces tucked
into the last, passionate folds.

The steeple’s shadow points
the way out as cars leave
the parking lot’s narrow stalls –
I don’t want to go to graveside.
Better to sit here and watch
clouds pass over the white façade,
a more fitting memorial,
about how every movement
has an undetected stillness.
We forgot that, between us,
deeper benedictions were always
waiting to shake off old cocoons,
ready to fan their wings.

Received a shocking call from a friend that at first I thought was a joke.  Then I checked around to verify the information.

Sometime in the night on Sunday, November 15th, my friend Shannan went to sleep and never woke up.  Questions of whether it was intentional or an accidental overdose continue to swirl around those of us whose worlds were rocked by the news.

Shannan lived with severe bipolar disorder, and regulated it – mostly successfully – with medication.  She was kind and caring but given to bouts of depression that scared me.

She was a near-expert marksman and kept many guns in her home.  Her dog is named Ruger – the cutest little Boston Terrier you’d want to meet with an underbite so obvious, it’s like he’s intentionally showing off his bottom teeth. She adored her dog.

Shannan loved to be the party.  If ever there was a case for arrested development, she embodied it.  You couldn’t help but laugh when she was around, feeling like you were still in high school and somehow ended up hanging around the “bad girl.”  No topic was taboo.  She was always ready to stand up to anyone who crossed her in spite of her diminutive stature.  She was a giant trapped in a small body.

Your death came as a shock.  I will miss you.

Are You Pondering What I’m Pondering? V.11.15.2009

AHHH, FALL – My favorite time of the year has finally arrived and I have taken the day off in honor.  Okay, well, actually I took the day off because I can’t talk myself into going into work today.  It’s too beautiful.  Many people get spring fever…I get fall fever.  Always have.

When I was a kid, fall meant that winter wasn’t far behind, and growing up in Michigan, that meant lots and lots of sledding.  We lived in a very rural area, and there were hilly woods that were perfect for creating mile long sled runs that blended danger (the tree! watch out for the tree!) with breathtaking fun.  I never remember being too cold to continue sledding – except for one time when my friends and me were sledding across a lake and we broke through the ice – and could easily spend eight hours doing endless exhilirating runs.

The pups come alive in the fall in winter, which is amazing to witness.  The cooler weather brings them out of their summer doldrums.  They play more, are friendlier, and tend to behave more because they’re wearing themselves out playing and are more complacent once it’s time to come inside and rest.

Many of my current friends are summer people (Ian excepted…you ski hound you) and love the heat and the blaring sun.

Not me.

Give me a foot of snow, frigid temperatures, and a day off, and I’m good to go.

HE JUST CAN’T LET IT GO – Received a letter from a certain veterinarian’s attorney on Friday (which I promptly returned unopened).  I was forewarned by many that this vet was incredibly egocentric and a bully.  However, I grew up with the biggest bully of them all, and learned not to be intimidated by such bluster and posturing.  Men who are as ego-driven as this guy typically get bored with their own antics and move on to something else.  There’s an online veterinarian rating site that includes these reviews:

*Vet Rob Landry failed to inform me that my cat had kidney disease. Ten months later, my cat died of kidney failure and possibly cancer. He tested her in Jan. and Nov., and both times explained to me that the tests revealed nothing. I found out what truly was wrong, only after having to put my cat to sleep and requesting all the tests run in the last year. I showed the test results to another vet. He pointed out the warning flags and what they meant. Rob Landry told me that the test results revealed nothing and further testing was necessary. I paid for further testing, but before the results were in, my cat died. When I confronted him with this information, he was rude, and said that the other vet had “lied” about the kidney disease and failure. When confronted about specific flags concerning cancer on the lab results, he said that he had seen those and suggested an ultrasound. But never once did he mention cancer to me. I’m sorry I entrusted my cat to this vet.

*This guy (Dr. Landry) has a MAJOR attitude problem. While he starts off as very fake- kind, he quickly devolves into God-complex nasty at the slighest question/concern. I was appalled at his rough handling of my dog and he didn’t seem a bit phased at his own (awful) behavior. I understand that now he is claiming to be a pain specialist. Appropriate since if yout pet sees him, there will be pain involved, on way or another.

*We were charged $95.00 for an x-ray without sedating the dog which means they got nothing usable. Never followed up as they said they would in 10 days except after 48 hours to see if our dog was vomiting as they gave him Rimyadl. When we requested the x-ray for a second opinion appointment, they denied our request unless we paid a rental fee for the x-ray. Stay away!!!!

*This establishment lacks integrity and professionalism. They misdiagnosed my animal’s condition several times, jeopardizing my pet’s life, and costing me so much more than it should’ve to get it corrected. Dr. Landry is condescending and sarcastic and obviously does not care about the well-being of the animals he treats as he does his bank account. Not recommended to anyone who truly cares for their pets.

Not that I needed validation for the drama he’s created in the past week – including contact with my personal vet in an effort to glean information and an attempt to discredit my claims,  and the president of the Great Dane Rescue for the same reasons – but it does help.  This guy is a real piece of work!  Glad we were able to find out before his staff could do any real damage.   We moved Yaz out of his clinic’s care as soon as was possible. He has obvious selective hearing when it comes to the general consensus of him in the area, including his vet colleagues and other professionals who have had to interact with him.  To quote a line from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?: Sad, sad, sad…

NOVEL PROJECTS & EPIPHANIES – Put the finishing touches on my competition entry into the 2010 Pikes Peak Writers Fiction Contest and sent it off yesterday late afternoon. While working on Plummet over the past several weeks, I had yet another epiphany about one of my other novel projects, Throwing Rocks at God. I realized that one of the characters just wasn’t working in the story, and for a long time I wasn’t sure why.  And for reasons that were unclear previously, the story wasn’t gelling like I’d hoped it would.  It was missing a certain something that eluded me.

I was re-reading The Prince of Tides on my Kindle and the prologue is in first person and is incredibly poetic and poignant.  It was something the main character, Tom Wingo, said there that sparked an idea for me. My novel, while incredibly powerful in story, lacked a strong POV character, someone who could tell the story in an educated way (it’s a pre-Civil War story and told primarily from a slave’s POV currently), but who could see everything that went on.  The character in Throwing Rocks at God, Doctor Horace Mann, seemed extraneous because he didn’t have anything vital to add.  Yet, he was one of the first characters that came to mind when planning the project.  And while he continues to be a secondary character, he’s the only one with the education and wherewithal to tell the story and understand its implications.

So I’ve begun jotting notes on it as I continue to work on Plummet. I despise switching novels before the draft is finished.  But…this epiphany has reignited the original passion I had for the story and its characters.

THE BODY – The dead body of a 42-year-old local woman was found with a single gunshot wound to the head on the walking trail I take every morning with the pups.  The news reported scant details, but did say that it appeared that no “foul play” was involved, that it was a self-inflicted wound.  However, got a call from a neighbor yesterday saying that the police are actively investigating it as a potential homicide stemming from domestic violence. In spite of the fact that we live in a rural area, it appears that big city violence happens everywhere.  We’re avoiding the trail for awhile just in case.

THE NEW YAZ – Yaz’s accident has made her a different dog.  Where once she was all exuberance and wild energy, that’s been tempered by the severity of her injuries.  Now she’s incredibly cuddly and gentle, her exuberance showing in her eyes and the level of her curiosity that has returned like sun breaking out of a week of clouds.

Last night, while we lay together watching television, me rubbing her belly and massaging her legs and hips, I was compelled to say:

“It’s not your fault, Yaz.”

Her eyes opened and they smiled at me.  Her tail thumped the bed twice, as if to reply, Thank you.

Our lives will never be the same, but I suspect that our relationship will only continue to grow stronger, closer, deeper.

She was able to complete both of our morning walks without growing fatigued and returned home to gnaw on a bone…another favorite activity of hers that she has ignored since the accident.  I’m happy to see her maturing and growing into the beautiful girl she is.

DRACULA THE UN-DEAD – Been reading Bram Stoker’s great grand-nephew Dacre Stoker’s sequel to the classic Dracula story.  I’m about halfway through, and it’s a really great story!  Lots of action, reviving many of the original characters from the original, in a new light.  The writing is passable (lots of passive language and anachronistic phrases), and I’m quite impressed by it overall.  If you’re a fan of classic stories, I recommend this one. (you reading this, Greg?)

UNCERTAIN FUTURE – The government has announced a statewide pay cut for all its employees beginning next year, which the forced furlough days have already gouged many paychecks.  I’ve been sending out my resume to suitable private companies.  I mentioned awhile ago that my favorite boss EVER was retiring, which took place November 6th.  The interim boss is quite difficult to work with, as he wants everything done yesterday and with little or no forewarning.  He’s already double-booked hotel rooms and flights in spite of the fact that I provided him with the travel information with plenty of advance notice, costing our agency thousands of dollars in flight-change fees and associated costs.

He’s a very nice guy, but barrels through life like a ram in a china shoppe (he’s Aries), living up to his astrology.  He knows his stuff, though, and is a dynamo in negotiations.  But our previous boss was incredibly efficient, but laid back.  As long as the work got done, he was happy.  The stress level of the office has tripled with the interim boss’s step up the ladder.  I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to tolerate it and send out to the universe a request for assistance.