A Week of Observations: P3

With an extra hour to write and reflect, I figured I'd make a blog list. It's my new thing. Here's what I learned/remembered this week. Next post will be a new interview with the poet and fiction writer, Tina Barry. In the meantime, my week's lessons...

• Saying, "Thanks, that what I intended" in a super low voice is the best way to receive a compliment
• 5Ks are much easier if a dog is pulling you along
• Buying cheap candy means being stuck with cheap candy 
• Getting your short story collection nominated for the Pen/Faulkner is like eating warm bread pudding with a scoop of vanilla
• It's always good to have an extra pair of shoes in the car
• To Do lists are only helpful when they're realistic; otherwise, they are a source of anxiety
• Putting all recurring characters in a single story is awkwardly delicious
• NaNoWriMo could be any month 
• If the conversation is awkward, walking away abruptly is a natural end
• Pot pie can't be dressed up
• The right frame can be tough to find
• People are almost never who they seem
• Ice and heat, in the right combination, can cure most minor ailments
• Handstands after thirty are an exercise in fearlessness - but they shouldn't be rushed

Writing prompt: Write the opening to the next great novel. Just the opening, a mere paragraph. Make that paragraph the best paragraph you've ever written. The next day, read that paragraph and continue to write. 20 minutes minimum. See what happens.

Her and an unidentified plastic object

This week has been strange. The creative writing class I'm teaching started this week, so that's been fun. My husband has been in London until late yesterday, so I've had a lot of alone time. The puppy ate some toothpaste-colored plastic thing that I am yet to identify and got sick Wednesday, so that sucked. Roofers have been working on our apartment all week, except yesterday, so though I've had alone time I have not had quiet time. And, we had a no-snow snow day in San Antonio yesterday. The city basically shut down due to some ice and freezing temperatures, which I loved. Variety is lacking here as far as weather goes, and though I don't miss driving in icy conditions, I do like a little winter (key word being little).

To cap off the week, I went to the movies. I had no desire to see Her, but a friend of mine invited me to go to the movies after a long week, and the showing fit our schedule so I found myself paying nine dollars for a ticket. The movie started out great. I loved the near-future touches, the further division of our selves from a physical society, but I didn't fully buy the idea that high-waisted pants and broom-like mustaches could possibly be the future of fashion. The movie was not represented well by the trailers, I don't think, because the ideas that drive it are far more dynamic than the mere idea of a man in love with artificial intelligence. And though there were some uncomfortable scenes--especially when you're sitting next to two pre-teens eating pizza loudly (smack, smack) and giggling at every bad word or sexual reference--I enjoyed and would recommend the movie.

In writing news, "A Glimpse," a short short that appeared in Eclectic Flash then Thumbnail Magazine has been picked up by Fiction Southeast. I'm honored to be included among some really great writers there. Also, if you didn't get through my ramblings on Toledo last week, I also had a piece of new fiction and interview with Meg Tuite posted at Connotation Press. I got a great acceptance this morning, and I wrote my father a short story on request. I'm most nervous about that one because it took me a long time to write, but hopefully he likes it.

That's all my news. My husband is about to wake up and find out his shoe has been chewed up (Ahti's glad he's home), so I'm off to deal with that.  I wish you all a wonderful week.

Monsters

This week, a new publication launched: A cappella Zoo 11. I wrote a story about little monsters that save people's lives in unpleasant ways. The short story shares the tentative title of my novel, but it is not an excerpt. It is it's own world, to say the least. If you order ($6), I hope you enjoy.

Today, we plan to go to the Humane Society. Both my husband and I were secretly looking at the postings of dogs that need homes, and when we each realized the other was doing it too, we decided that we would at least look. We'll see what happens.

I wish you all a wonderful weekend. If you write, check out my updated site. I
am working toward making a very long list of writing prompts there, for my own reference, for writers, and for students. If you know of any great prompts, please let me know. I'll add your name to the prompt, if you'd like. I want favorites, friends' favorites, and the best ones found in writing books. I plan to add little by little until I have at least 100.

To a beautiful start to fall. Cheers (tips the Spicy V8)!

-Jen

Dear John Quiñones,

It might be a tough one to pull off, but I need a show about this: 

I was walking my dog on a relatively busy street near my apartment complex. My dog, though well-medicated and hanging in there, has heart failure. He is sweet and docile, a Blue Heeler--not an aggressive breed, yet I keep in on leash because a.) I want to keep him safe and b.) I know that dogs can be unpredictable when they feel threatened, no matter how sweet they are.

Yesterday, as we walked after a good rain, a soaking wet black Lab mixed with something stocky came rushing toward us. He charged my little guy, who is very laid back by nature and even more so on all his meds and with a tricky ticker. The dog sniffed my dog at first, then started growling, then started showing his teeth and biting. His owners were twenty feet away, walking leisurely. When their dog started getting aggressive, I yelled to the two women, one younger, one older, to come get their dog off of my dog. They didn't run, just continued to stroll, so I had to pull the Lab mix from my dog. I wasn't bitten, but it wasn't easy. The younger of the two of them finally rushed up, after I yelled at her three times, to get the dog.

Then what? Well, I was angry. I'm not sure what I should have done, and I'd love to know what you would have done, but here's what I did. I told the both of them, "You need to keep your dog on a leash so he doesn't go attacking other dogs."

In response, the older woman who didn't seem to care at all said, "He doesn't usually do this. He was just playing." This is the same comment a Chow owner made when I was a little kid and got bit on the eye by her vicious ("but usually so sweet") dog. It took everything I had to not attack that woman like her dog attacked mine.

Of course, I did not hurt the woman. Instead, I told her, well, "You can't say that anymore. Get your dog a damn leash." She ignored me. My dog is fine, but I was so incredibly shaken up because I know every time his heart rate goes way up, he's probably losing time. He's a happy dog, and he's in good shape, but I know these days are numbered and people that put his health in jeopardy are hitting every maternal instinct a dog mom can have.  

But when they walked off, I watched. The dog started running off, way in front of them again. What about that dog? That dog could just as easily chased a squirrel into the busy road we were walking along. It could have just as easily attacked a child or another animal that could have taken it down. 

In a city like San Antonio, with a population of 1.36 million, there are many busy streets. There are many large apartment complexes on busy streets, like the one I live in, and there are something near 200,000 stray dogs and cats. The odds that an unleashed dog will get hurt or hurt someone/some other animal are high. I don't understand why anyone who lives in the city, especially a big city like this, would be so incredibly irresponsible. But also, I wonder if I should have done more.

The ending of this story is bittersweet. The sweet part is this: my dog is not hurt, there are no bite marks, though he was shaken up and had a tough night (he breathes hard all night on days he gets really excited). The bitter part is this: the woman turned into my apartment complex, and walked all the way to the back. I live in a very large complex, and though I take comfort in the fact that I can pass on her behavior to the rental office, I don't have much confidence that this will that change her behavior. Should I have been nicer to her? Psychologically, I doubt my reaction did much more than amuse and maybe scare her.

But I'm calmer now. But this isn't the first time it's happened that a dog owner's dog charges me or my dog. Usually, the owner is apologetic or runs after the dog, but nice or not, this is a problem. Should I have reported her? And to whom, Animal Control? Should I get dog-repelling pepper spray? Would that hurt the dog more than help? I wonder what I should have done, really...

Here and there

WRITING NEWS:

Oh Sandy: An Anthology of Humor for a Serious Purpose is an anthology masterminded and executed by Lynn Beighly, Peter Barlow, and AJ Fader. All proceeds from this book are going to help victims of Sandy, who are still suffering and no longer thought about by the larger world. The slant here is to bring humor to catastrophe because, well, if we can't laugh at disaster it destroys us. I've begun reading it, and it's really a great collection full of heart and diverse in voice; more, it's damn funny. I'm pretty proud of the piece I wrote for it also, "Movie Night," which prior to being included here was a finalist for Glimmer Train's Award for New Writers under the name "The Hero."

I am currently shopping two stories, both of which I really love. I've begun researching agents. And that's the extent of my writing news for this week. 

OTHER NEWS: 

Life itself is what it is. My dog is getting a sort of second wind right now. After I posted last, we got even more dismal news about his condition, that his heart disease was pretty far along and he officially had congestive heart failure. But, we're doing what we can. Thanks to a pricey combination of water pills, Vetmedin, and Enalapril, he even jogged a little this morning.  I am thankful for these pills. (And this coming from the woman who wouldn't even take an aspirin unless I was doubled over in pain.) Thank you, pricey pills, for giving my buddy a little more time. Of course, we're taking natural measures, too. We've removed all high-sodium foods and treats from his diet and started feeding him more whole ingredients. I found a good article on making your own dog food which, given prices of the good stuff, I might start doing. Anything to give him quality of life for a while longer.

I'm ready to begin teaching a new creative writing class on Monday, so it'll be busy, busy... Hope your week is busy with the good things.
  

Appreciating every wind

I received my dog's diagnosis today, and I had to write about it.

Buddha was named almost immediately after my husband and I adopted him because he was so incredibly stoic. Let me just say that this dog is the best. Whose dog isn't, I know, but really... he's perfect. He doesn't bark. He's a lapdog. He's a cuddler. He's a little hesitant of other dogs, but loves people, cats, and (unfortunately) possums. Ever since I got him, I've taken him on long walks every morning and afternoon. He gets a short walk at night. During these walks, he moves slowly, and when there's a cool wind here in South Texas, he stops walking and puts his nose up to feel the fresh air hit his face. Buddha loves life, and has a habit of relaxing into it--so much so that I have had to tug him sometimes because I have to get to work.

We found out that Buddha has a heart murmur a year or so ago, and the vet told us that this was the result of the heart worms he had when we adopted him. About two weeks ago, we noticed Buddha was more laid back than usual. And when the day came that he refused his treats, we scheduled an appointment. After lots of expensive testing, we've determined that he has heart disease, and judging from the enzymes in his blood and his X-rays, it's moderate. His heart is giving out as mine breaks.

I've read a lot about this, and I am taking steps to get Buddha healthier. My husband and I switched his food to Blue Buffalo Senior, which doesn't add all the sodium that his previous food does. We have him on a diuretic to help relieve the pressure on his heart, and we've switched out his treats. More, my buddy is now getting to stop and enjoy the wind all he wants. 

While we walk now, I realize that my having to tug might have often been because Buddha just needed to catch his breath and embrace the moment. So now we walk a little slower; and with our fragile hearts, we enjoy every second. We leave earlier so that we can pause and engage every wind. 

I've read that some dogs can live a good while, outlast the odds, with the right lifestyle, and we're shooting for that. If you have any advice, please let me know. I know to listen to the vet first, but I also know to go beyond and learn as much as I can because this is how you defy the odds. And defying odds is what this guy is all about. 

Getting Yelled At By Neighbors ... Again

My dog, a Blue Heeler named Buddy, watches every move I make with detached interest. I sometimes feel as though I am his personal reality TV star. After all, he follows me from room to room, even sitting outside the bathroom when I go. This never bothered me; in fact, I found my short spunky shadow a reassuring, accepting presence in my life.

Because I'm off work, I am beginning to notice that his clingy behavior is getting worse. He's expecting too much from me: walks five times a day and pets 24/7, even as I sit in my cushy office chair, attempting something literary. When I leave the house to meet with friends or run errands, he pouts--this is the one time that he refuses to look my way. With the jingle of keys and the turn of a knob, Buddy sighs loudly and curls up on the couch, facing anywhere but the front door I will selfishly exit.

Buddy is the first dog I've owned since I was a kid. He's a lapdog, rarely hyper, and he never barks unless threatened by another dog. And even then his bark is low, a hybrid growl-bark that seems to say "Back up," or more likely "Get the fuck away from me."

When out with friends, I speak of Buddy as they do their children. "Guess what Buddy did today?" I'll ask eagerly to hesitant gazes. "I'm kind of worried," I'll go on; "he seems less social than other dogs." Friends will listen and nod, and fellow childless, dog-owning friends will match my stories and sometimes raise the bar, including the far more dramatic tale of say, a Lab jumping out of a second story window or a Chow biting the UPS guy.

OK, so here's the problem: I baby my dog. This wasn't an actual problem, really, until it was pointed out to me--rudely--by a neighbor. I was walking Buddy in the courtyard of my apartment complex (where dogs are allowed) when he stopped, as dogs do, to smell a bush. I stopped too, only to hear a shrill voice scold me: "Get that dog," it said.

I looked around to find a short elderly woman with close-cut curls and schoolmarm glasses, frowning. "What?" I said, confused by her demanding tone.

"I said ... Get that dog!! You need the dog whisperer, that's what you need. You better get him." She gestured to Buddy, who was now peeking out from under the bush, not exactly afraid, but understandably wary of the hollering woman.

Being a writer, my initial reaction to this expression of insanity was to tell the woman to speak slower as I grabbed for my Moleskine and pen. Instead, I asked calmly why she felt the need to yell at me, a person she doesn't know, when my dog was merely sniffing a bush.

"What did you say to me?" she screamed. Yes, screamed.

Not quick to repeat myself, I simply yanked lightly on Buddy's chain and continued on my way. Buddy followed, reluctantly, and then he stopped again, this time to smell the cement sidewalk. I stopped, too.

"Get that dog! Get that dog!"

"I think YOU can walk another way, walk around us, or wait," I said firmly. Then, I did repeat myself, "And what makes you think you can talk to a person you don't know like that?"

She just stared. I shrugged, fighting the tingle of exhilaration one gets during the start of an argument or fight. I yanked Buddy onward, resolving not to turn back around. As we walked away (of course) she began again: "I said that because I don't trust dogs, and you're obviously not the pack leader here."

"I no longer care what your crazy-ass reason is," I yelled back, not turning around. But, as I consciously kept Buddy close, I realized that he resisted as I yanked him along. He stared up at me as if to say, what are you doing? And, I realized that the woman might be right. Perhaps I should work a little harder to train Buddy, stop treating him like a child, and maybe think about my reasoning for spoiling him. But, if I do need to work on my dog owner skills, I can only hope my neighbor works on her people skills.