March 27, 2007
My response to this:
The limits of love.
Golly, are people fond of the absolute statements. I'm thinking in particular of those posting that "it's just a dog" and the LW's friend should "get over it" within some socially mandated period of time. Also vehement are those who are taking people to task for seemingly having stronger emotions for their dogs than for some people.
I found out today that my dog's cancer has returned. The vet is talking in terms of weeks rather than months. During that time, my husband and I will love and spoil and cherish him, but what it boils down to is that we have to watch him decline, until it is time to put him down.
My husband and I do not have, or wish to have children, and we are not inclined to think of our two dogs as such. The fact remains, though that they ARE family to us. They are a constant, warm, affectionate, hilarious, ebullient presence in our lives every single day - so much a part of the rhythm and mood of our daily lives. Our ailing dog is an Irish Wolfhound, as big as many adult humans, and his presence is undeniably massive. So will be the hole that it leaves in our lives when it is time to let him go.
Several times in my life, relatives I've barely met have died. While I felt something, of course, I have a feeling that it will be considerably dwarfed by what I'll feel when our dog dies. Does that make me some sort of mentally ill monster? Am I somehow defective if perchance I don't snap right back within a month?
Loss is loss, and we love whom and what we love with wildly varying intensities. It strikes me that if someone doesn't understand that, they're they one with the emotional deficiency.
February 12, 2007
Into the Woods.
STATEN ISLAND, N.Y. -- David Wood says there are just too many parties at Christmas time and not enough after -- when folks can savor each and every one. And is he ever right. With that thought in mind, the Stapleton resident decided to take charge.
Mid-January says he, is always a good time for a party, especially with a house guest from England. And so it went. Friends of David Michael Wood and his twin, Daniel Marshall, came from Connecticut, upper New York State, New Jersey and just about all parts of New York City for a fabulous black-tie dinner at Ivy Hill, David's so out of the ordinary Stapleton home, to meet and greet Oliver Bradbury of London. In fact so impressed was Oliver with the New York hospitality, word is he's moving to the Big Apple -- and possibly even the Island.
David explains they keep a very cool house so that all the charming Christmas greenery sprinkled about his 1870's Italian House is still quite fresh.
One guest even took the occasion to again wear her wedding dress, which featured a black satin corset bodice and a skirt made from 64 yards of red tulle, with black flames appliqued at the hemline. So it's no wonder that appropriate gasps were heard from all the partygoers, including Christina and Bob Mantz of West Brighton, Victoria and Mark Drumbakis of Emerson Hill, Wesley Kropp of Stapleton, and Hueldine Webb and Lester Blair of West Brighton.
And for those who don't know David -- he is what's known as a "decorator's decorator." His English Country House is very formal but nonetheless comfortable -- a feat not easily achieved. Hope he lets us in on his secret!
January 17, 2007
There's no lovely way to say this, so I'll let Mordred.
Upon the upsetting revelation of the health status of my innards, I have penned a new entry to Heaves of Grass.
On Being a Large Wolfhound with an Unfortunate Medical Condition
I've learned a new term - an unfortunate one
For what's going on inside me
Lymphoma's the word. I assure you - no fun
And neither's the one with the "C"
The words give my Mommy a wet, salty face
And Daddy - his jaw clamps up tight
For them, I shall weather with oodles of grace
And soldier forth with all my might
Chemo's a word I've been hearing a lot
I'm not quite sure what that entails
If it makes them feel better, I'll give it a shot
For my Daddy, I'm tougher than nails
The rumors of tumors - I wish they weren't true
But now that we know that they are
I'll marshall my courage, to sticking place screw
I'm not ready to say au revoir
Mordred T. Dog
Needless to say, we're deeply sad, and just want to make him feel as comfortable, loved, and spoiled as we possibly can right now. Oncologist visit on Saturday.
Keep your paws crossed for him, wouldja?
December 02, 2006