Monday, August 30, 2010


I don't know what to call this one.

As much as I wish it were otherwise, I'm not really a "good" person. I try my best to do what's right for me and my family, but I often fall short. My shortcomings - and awareness thereof - only help shine a light on my failures both in living my life and in exercising empathy. I cut no slack for myself or anyone else. I'm a judgemental bitch, and I give no one any quarter.

I'm in a bit of a crisis right now because I'm dealing with someone who is seriously neglecting the non-humans who depend on her. I want to whine and detail what is so upsetting me, but one of the things that's angering me the most is something other people I know (and love) have done with their own fur-babies. And while some of them did it long ago before vets and other pros in that arena finally spoke up and started saying why it was horriffic, others have done it more recently. So I don't feel like I can run to them and cry like I want to about what she's planning. And it's not even the worst of what has gone on and is going on in her house. If anything, it's the least of her crimes. But because it's still in the "contemplation" phase, it's what's upsetting me the most.

I've presented alternatives. I begged her to reconsider. I begged her to re-home the animals (the ones in this scenario AND the rest for several reasons).

I'm not a perfect mama when it comes to animals, and have never claimed to be. I've made so many mistakes that haunt me still. But I have never turned a blind eye to clear suffering and parasitic infestation. And I have never contemplated maiming my babies for our convenience. I would buy new furniture every year before mutilating an animal, or I would sit on the fucking floor and feel joy in knowing that I love my babies more than I do a sofa or a table.

And so now I'm in a corner I painted myself into and I'm whining to the internets. Because I don't know how to turn to the people I know and love without making them feel like this upset would be a judgement against them. And I honestly don't know that it wouldn't be, deep down.

I will always take the side of those who can't speak for themselves and who are denied self-determination. So in a human-"pet" situation, I will never be on the side of the human, even (or especially) when that human is me. We ALWAYS have a choice; they are forced to live with the decisions we make. And since that is the case, I can't, in good conscience, side with anyone but them. And when the decision isn't mine, and the outcome is out of my hands, and I've argued to the best of my ability, all I can do is scream. Silently. And hope against hope that I was heard and she does the right thing.

Monday, August 23, 2010


(yes, this title is a Depeche Mode reference)

I know I've been lame and sappy before. And I know I've whined at the other end of the spectrum too. But there are times - sometimes weeks on end, like lately - when almost every single moment of observing/contemplating my husband is one of extreme gratitude and appreciation.

He is no saint. I will not go into all the small, hilarious ways in which he makes it clear just how human he is. He's aware of this blog and has read it, but we haven't discussed my writing about him here to the point where I can be that specific, even though I'm sure he'd be fine and I'd love to share the hilarity. But I digress (so shocking!). My point is that I could elaborate ad infinitum on the myriad behaviors/incidents/tendencies that illustrate exactly why rose-colored glasses would never suit my vision prescription in terms of my darling dearest. It wouldn't pertain.

We've had difficult times and blissful times. But sometimes, like lately, we synch up so much that we complete what would be a sickening number of each others' sentences if someone else were present. Our views line up. Our plans line up. Our dirty thoughts line up. What we want for the future is close enough to identical that it validates all the decisions that led up to me deciding he really was the one I wanted, and all the decisions since then.

And I see him in a light that allows those small flaws to show, but at the same time illuminates all that is smart and funny and awesome and right for me, and he fucking glows. GLOWS! For days or weeks on end.

Though things like this
make me sick,
in a case like this
I'll get away with it...