Why I Don't Watch The News
Over the last year or more I have limited my “news” intake to items that I select. Picked out of the business, health, science and technology sections of websites mostly. Avoiding the local news and the large network news stations. Not because I’m not interested in the goings on in the world around, I care very much. Too much. To the point that I cannot handle hearing anymore the things people are doing to each other, their children and their animals. Information overload, and all of it sickening. Watching those broadcasts I don’t have a choice in the news they bring me. The focus on the horrific crimes committed over and over, the circumstances a little different, different names and faces but the end result is the same. What brought this on? I made the mistake of leaving the 10 o’ clock news play tonight after the show I was watching was over. No exaggeration, in five minutes (*skip this if you are at all like me*) a 20 year old bound and gagged his girlfriend’s 1 and 2 year old boys and left them in a garage so he could watch the NBA final’s at a bar. He didn’t think he had done anything wrong (physically the boys are ok). A 20 month old girl was beaten to death, raped and left in a dumpster by her mom’s boyfriend. Mom was busy being a prostitute in another state. A 9 year old was shot and killed in her apartment, someone just started shooting into the home. Another man is wanted for questioning in the beating death of his girlfriend’s two year old daughter (You can continue reading now)…and in other news how to protect yourself from identity theft. WTF?!? I think the least of our concerns is identity theft! Free parenting classes? How to spot a child abuser in a mate? In less than five minutes I was so far beyond tears, I just sat here sick, unbelieving and numb. There is no way am I saying that any of that stuff is NOT news worthy, please report it. Hopefully they’ll find the guilty and fry them. Somewhere amid all that horrendous stuff I'm sure sits a human interest story or two, something that would make me smile. For my sanity, it is not worth me wading thru all that real life horror to find it. Knowing bad things happen, doesn’t mean I need a daily dose. So, when someone says “did you hear about blah, blah, blah?” I will continue to tell them no, and from now on will add “and please don’t tell me I don’t want to know”.
Ignorance is bliss.
At least in this case.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Friday, June 05, 2009
One Week
A few times this week I awoke and thought she was still here. Early and still dark, before I was fully awake. She slept next to me for seven years. Certain other things that I didnt want are staying with me. That night I stayed with her after she passed, but not for long. Shocked and grieving, I still knew I did not want to remember her that way. Covering her eyes, while I cried and petted her. One of the techs asked if I wanted a private room with her, to be more comfortable. Just wanted to be left alone with her, not to feel at home. She never would be again. As hard as I tried to avoid it, that blank stare was burned into my memory. That and the last look she gave me before they took her to the back when we first arrived. The first night it kept me awake. Lost and hurting, my close friend stayed with me. That meant a lot to me. When I just wanted to wallow in absolute despair on the way home, he turned me away from it and asked me to share with him some of my favorite memories of her. I needed that. Besides that feeling of 'gone' I feel like I left her somewhere. The dog that always had to be right next to me is alone and I cant shake it. Like I'm waiting for something to happen. Wasn't being there with her enough closure? How much more final can it be? Worked away from blame and 'what if'. What if I had realized it was liver failure earlier? It wouldnt have changed the outcome. The only difference is I would have taken her sooner, they would have kept her and I would get a phone call while she died in a strange place alone. She spent her last hours with us, alert and home.
Pictures of Clover
A few times this week I awoke and thought she was still here. Early and still dark, before I was fully awake. She slept next to me for seven years. Certain other things that I didnt want are staying with me. That night I stayed with her after she passed, but not for long. Shocked and grieving, I still knew I did not want to remember her that way. Covering her eyes, while I cried and petted her. One of the techs asked if I wanted a private room with her, to be more comfortable. Just wanted to be left alone with her, not to feel at home. She never would be again. As hard as I tried to avoid it, that blank stare was burned into my memory. That and the last look she gave me before they took her to the back when we first arrived. The first night it kept me awake. Lost and hurting, my close friend stayed with me. That meant a lot to me. When I just wanted to wallow in absolute despair on the way home, he turned me away from it and asked me to share with him some of my favorite memories of her. I needed that. Besides that feeling of 'gone' I feel like I left her somewhere. The dog that always had to be right next to me is alone and I cant shake it. Like I'm waiting for something to happen. Wasn't being there with her enough closure? How much more final can it be? Worked away from blame and 'what if'. What if I had realized it was liver failure earlier? It wouldnt have changed the outcome. The only difference is I would have taken her sooner, they would have kept her and I would get a phone call while she died in a strange place alone. She spent her last hours with us, alert and home.
Pictures of Clover
2/16/02-5/30/09
She is gone. Taken to the emergency room Saturday night after realizing far too late that she was in liver failure. Brought on by the chemo, by the lymphoma or both. The events leading to the end don't matter as much. She didn't make me decide, she let go on her own a few minutes after we arrived. Rather than tell you how my heart is broken I would rather write about why I loved her. What made her special to me.
We named all of the the puppies from that litter. Silly names just to keep them straight. On her chest she had a white mark in the shape of a three leaf clover (it grew to look more like a radiation symbol). She was the sweetest of the group, yet I initially wasnt going to keep her. I couldn't let her go. A big roley poly puppy, she preferred our company to the company of the other dogs. The only brindle one in the group, she was striking. Picture a brindle labrador (she was lab/heeler/pitbull). The night she struggled her way onto my bed to sleep with me, rather that her mom or the remaining puppies, was when I decided. There she slept from then on. She was shy and responded to love. A stearn reprimand was all she needed, just like her mother. Remember when I taught her to shake she got so excited that she had done well, she would attempt to use both front paws and fall over. She is the only dog I've ever had hug me, sometimes her exuberance would cause injury (fat lip or two). Her hugs consisted of insistently pushing her nose under your arm until you put your arm around her. She'd then put her head on your chest and push a little. A 70 pound lap dog. When we got new couches downstairs we had to teach her to stay off them, but gave in a little when her back legs stayed firmly on the floor and the front half of her body was draped across your legs. See? Technically I'm not on the couch, I'm on you. Fiercely protective and guarded when people first came over, most people ended up being her best friend by the time they left. There were few people she didn't like (and the ones she didn't, I would later find out, I didn't either). One summer, after the 4th of July fireworks, she developed a lasting interest in airplanes. The flight path is just to the north of us and I caught her frequently sitting on the back porch watching them come in. She did not like the large blimp the flew around town, sometimes directly over the house. For many years work started for me at 6:30am meaning she needed to use the facilities by 6am. Not a morning dog. She'd wiggle and stretch and yawn. Go back to sleep. Get up, come to the top of the stairs and stretch and yawn, and go lay on the couch. She reminded me of a kid who didn't want to get ready for school. God forbid it was cold out, she learned that I felt bad for her if she shivered. She would shiver sometimes even when it was warm when she wanted to come in. On a sunny day she would bask in the yard for hours. You could watch her deflate, like her whole day was shot, when she stepped onto the deck and it was raining. Snow? Forget it. We had a freak snowstorm here last December, snowed from noon until well after I went to bed. She held it for 24 hours before she gave in. Well, I could go on and on about the other typical dog things, car rides, chasing birds (only pigeons for her), the time she chewed a hole thru my mattress, remodeled the bathroom, the way she whined when I got home, put her head in my lap when I was crying, snuck into our room when she wasnt invited, fell up the stairs, banged her head, bury her head in my lap when she was embarrassed or in trouble, her fear of flashlights, sometimes ran her mom into the wall (nicknamed her Gordon for that)... I could go on. She was very protective, and a big baby. Fierce enough to chase someone out of our yard, and gentle enough to play with our ferret and bathe a kitten. So, I'll carry the rest with me, all the things that are side effects of the unique love for her. These were the things that brightened my days, a nudge, a hug, a bark, and what makes my days dimmer now that she's gone.
She is gone. Taken to the emergency room Saturday night after realizing far too late that she was in liver failure. Brought on by the chemo, by the lymphoma or both. The events leading to the end don't matter as much. She didn't make me decide, she let go on her own a few minutes after we arrived. Rather than tell you how my heart is broken I would rather write about why I loved her. What made her special to me.
We named all of the the puppies from that litter. Silly names just to keep them straight. On her chest she had a white mark in the shape of a three leaf clover (it grew to look more like a radiation symbol). She was the sweetest of the group, yet I initially wasnt going to keep her. I couldn't let her go. A big roley poly puppy, she preferred our company to the company of the other dogs. The only brindle one in the group, she was striking. Picture a brindle labrador (she was lab/heeler/pitbull). The night she struggled her way onto my bed to sleep with me, rather that her mom or the remaining puppies, was when I decided. There she slept from then on. She was shy and responded to love. A stearn reprimand was all she needed, just like her mother. Remember when I taught her to shake she got so excited that she had done well, she would attempt to use both front paws and fall over. She is the only dog I've ever had hug me, sometimes her exuberance would cause injury (fat lip or two). Her hugs consisted of insistently pushing her nose under your arm until you put your arm around her. She'd then put her head on your chest and push a little. A 70 pound lap dog. When we got new couches downstairs we had to teach her to stay off them, but gave in a little when her back legs stayed firmly on the floor and the front half of her body was draped across your legs. See? Technically I'm not on the couch, I'm on you. Fiercely protective and guarded when people first came over, most people ended up being her best friend by the time they left. There were few people she didn't like (and the ones she didn't, I would later find out, I didn't either). One summer, after the 4th of July fireworks, she developed a lasting interest in airplanes. The flight path is just to the north of us and I caught her frequently sitting on the back porch watching them come in. She did not like the large blimp the flew around town, sometimes directly over the house. For many years work started for me at 6:30am meaning she needed to use the facilities by 6am. Not a morning dog. She'd wiggle and stretch and yawn. Go back to sleep. Get up, come to the top of the stairs and stretch and yawn, and go lay on the couch. She reminded me of a kid who didn't want to get ready for school. God forbid it was cold out, she learned that I felt bad for her if she shivered. She would shiver sometimes even when it was warm when she wanted to come in. On a sunny day she would bask in the yard for hours. You could watch her deflate, like her whole day was shot, when she stepped onto the deck and it was raining. Snow? Forget it. We had a freak snowstorm here last December, snowed from noon until well after I went to bed. She held it for 24 hours before she gave in. Well, I could go on and on about the other typical dog things, car rides, chasing birds (only pigeons for her), the time she chewed a hole thru my mattress, remodeled the bathroom, the way she whined when I got home, put her head in my lap when I was crying, snuck into our room when she wasnt invited, fell up the stairs, banged her head, bury her head in my lap when she was embarrassed or in trouble, her fear of flashlights, sometimes ran her mom into the wall (nicknamed her Gordon for that)... I could go on. She was very protective, and a big baby. Fierce enough to chase someone out of our yard, and gentle enough to play with our ferret and bathe a kitten. So, I'll carry the rest with me, all the things that are side effects of the unique love for her. These were the things that brightened my days, a nudge, a hug, a bark, and what makes my days dimmer now that she's gone.
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