The Most Treacherous Aria Ever Written

That's how a music professor decsribed this in college - from the Mozart opera The Magic Flute. Using a whistle voice and reaching F6, this ain't for amateurs. Here, Diana Damrau performs exquisitely. Treacherous indeed. Don't try this at home, kids.

Stunning Music.

I wrote a paper on this piece, way back in college when I was studying music ... the "Enigma Variations" by Edward Elgar. I'll let you Google it if you want to learn more about it ... but this is, hands down, my favorite movement. Lyrical, sad, pensive, heavy, powerful and uplifting. And the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, my hometown orchestra, whose sound can fill the earth like no other (in my biased opinion).

Four minutes and twenty seconds long. Spend that much of your life experiencing this.

My Heart Is Broken.

Kitty

1996 - 2010

Kitty was about 14 years old. We're not entirely sure - we adopted her about 12 years ago, and we know that her previous owner wasn't completely honest with us.

They were a neighbor of a cousin of a co-worker of Scott's. We had a year-and-a-half year old Weimaraner, and were thinking of getting her a companion. Scott heard of this family who had a Weimaraner of the same age, who wanted to give her to a good home because their family was growing and they couldn't give their dog the attention it deserved. Scott called this woman, described Stoli (our dog), and she exclaimed "They sound like twins!" We arranged to drive down to Federal Way (about 20 miles south of Seattle) so that the dogs could meet.

We left Stoli in the car when we first met their dog. They lived in a neat split-level house in a quiet neighborhood with a fenced-in back yard. She showed us through the side gate to the yard, where we first saw "Jill" (her name back then).

She was not what we were expecting to see.

While Stoli was a smaller (but VERY athletic) dark-haired Weimaraner, "Jill" was ... well, the opposite. Lighter-haired (a more typical Weimaraner coat), large, a bit out-of-shape. The woman explained her skin condition as something she had always had ("She just keeps chewing on that spot!"). She showed us up the deck stairs into their kitchen, the only room in the house that "Jill" was allowed in. There was her crate, a food bowl, a water bowl, and I think one toy. She wasn't allowed to leave the linoleum-floored kitchen when she was inside. She wasn't petted. She wasn't hugged. Her mate ("Jack") had run away a few months before. I wonder why. The woman told us that while "Jill" wasn't spayed, she hadn't had a litter. That was very obviously not true.

Scott and I went outside to talk it over. This was NOT the dog we thought we were coming to meet. This wasn't the dog we thought would be our new family member.

But, there was something about her. We brought Stoli back to the yard to meet her. They didn't play, they didn't fight, they were kinda indifferent to each other. But we couldn't just leave this dog with that family. They could care less about her. She was a liability to them, an accessory to their little suburban existence, something they had because that's what a family had, but they were tired of her.

We took her home.

Once at home, we brought her inside to check it all out ... and she was scared to walk on the carpet. She wasn't allowed. We showed her the back yard, and she looked up at us as if saying "I can live here?" Later that night we coaxed her up the carpeted stairs to her bed next to ours. She was in awe.

We couldn't call her "Jill". She wasn't a Jill. She was big and sturdy, but sweet. Needed cuddling. Scott used to jokingly call big dogs "Kitty" when he saw them, as in "Kitty cat". We called her that once and she came running, tail wagging. That became her name.

Kitty became the alpha dog, much to Stoli's chagrin. There were fights, and more than a few drops of blood, but they settled into the fact that they just had to live with each other. Slowly - VERY slowly - they sorta became buddies.

She didn't have an easy life, even with us. She hadn't been spayed, and we put it off since we couldn't easily afford the surgery, so there was the uterine infection. Massive. Almost killed her. We think there was a mummified pup that hadn't been birthed. Thousands of dollars later, we had her back, more grateful than ever, and more bouncy. Then we adopted Kali, a Weimaraner puppy, four years ago, knowing that Stoli and Kitty were getting up there in years. Now, THERE was some fighting. The Christmas Day Massacre is still a legend in our house (and we still don't know where that part of Kali's ear went - our guess is Kitty swallowed it). Kitty became seriously ill about two years ago, we feared that she had swallowed something and had perforated her stomach or intestine and that she was a goner - and she pulled through, more grateful than ever.

She grew older, her hips stiffened up, she fell on the stairs a few times. But, she was still wagging her tail every time she saw us, still eating voraciously, still being a big smiley dog.

Two days ago, while Scott was off and at home, she started vomiting. Eventually she vomited up a paper towel (we're careful about making sure they can't get into the trash, but somehow she got one). She seemed to be better after that, although she wasn't interested in dinner that night.

She vomited again later that night as we were going to bed - mostly water and mucus. Again first thing in the morning. She still got up with no problem and went down the stairs and outside ... but while she drank a little water, she had no interest in food. Scott was already at work; four of the six team members at my work were off that day. I justified that Kitty would be fine, I couldn't really do anything, we'd see how she was when I got home. All day, my stomach was in knots.

I got home, and she was pretty much the same - but more lethargic. Suddenly she looked skinny to me, frail, tired. She had never ever looked frail, that I had noticed. After Scott came home, we decided to take her to the emergency clinic.

They admitted her. Her temperature was low, heart rate high. Not good. They put her on an IV, took x-rays, did blood work. We were told to call back in an hour or so.

She had something blocking her digestive system, between her stomach and her intestines. Keep her on fluids, it might pass. Keep your phone by the bed and call back in the morning.

The doctor called this morning - no change, the blockage might be getting more impacted. They could bring in a specialist (on a Saturday) to do an endoscopy. They may have to do surgery. Low end - a grand. Surgery - many thousands of dollars.

I wish I was confident that our decision was sound, not just financially based. If money were no object, I probably would have had them bring in the endoscopologist (?). But to be quite honest - we couldn't afford either option. We had already spent almost a thousand at that point. And, she's about 14 years old. How much do we want to put her through?

She's tired. She doesn't feel well. She's not happy.

We decided to let her go.

We drove up there, tears down our faces the whole time. They brought us into a room, where we had to sign that we were her legal owners, we were deciding to end her life, we wanted her to be cremated and her remains not returned to us. Then they asked us if we wanted them to make a paw print in clay to take with us.

We both started sobbing. No. We don't need that. We hadn't even thought of it.

They brought her into the room to say goodbye. She was tired, lethargic, out of it. Happy to see us, but no tail-wagging, no smile, no kisses. She just wanted to lay down. We petted her, hugged her, kissed her, sobbed even though we were trying not to. I went out and told them we were ready.

I thought the doctor would come in and ask if we wanted to come back and be with her. Instead, he came in with his vials and syringes, ready to go, and explained to us what would happen. Scott used to work for a vet clinic, years ago, and understood. I didn't know how long it would take, what would happen, what I would have to see.

I started crying. I couldn't stay. I wanted to be there with her, I did. But I had to leave.

I went out to the car, where a couple was just getting out of their car with a beautiful young black lab. I was crying as I got into my car, shut the door, and broke down. I was holding Kitty's collar and the fleece that I had left the night before so she could smell us. I cried harder than I can ever remember crying. It hurt.

Three minutes later Scott came out. She was gone. She wasn't upset, she just went to sleep. He had left the room and walked through the lobby past the couple with their dog, and he said the look on their faces was heartbreak when they saw him walk out. We sat in the car and cried and cried and cried ...

We came home on this beautiful warm sunny spring day, with a collar and a receipt and without Kitty. Scott dug a hole in the spot where Kitty loved to sit in the sun in the back yard, where we buried her collar and tags and burned the receipt. We talked about how we loved hearing her snore, the way she rubbed her paws over her eyes, how she tried to curl up on the cat house for a bed, how she used to chew on our lips when she kissed us.

How grateful she was that we loved her.

My heart is broken.

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really. ~ Agnes Sligh Turnbull

You Must Remember This.

“A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.” - Ingrid Bergman

And they were going to put her down ...

From the video poster's notes:

"Edie was so scared at the shelter and was scheduled to be euthanized yesterday. She was so lucky to have Bronwyne visit the shelter and save her life. I just helped with calming her down and showing everybody how these dogs can be easily managed with a little bit of love and patience."

"All Edie needed is a hug".

Amen.

If you're looking for a pet - please start with your local shelter.

Best Quality.

Continuing my "video blogger" status as of late - a beautiful scene from The Joy Luck Club. 7:45 in length, but worth it - whether you've seen this (incredible) movie or not, you need to set up the talk between the mother and daughter.

Here's a tissue. You're welcome.

We Are Not A Lost Generation.

Sometimes you have to read from right to left, down to up. It makes all the difference.

Hope. Is. Good.

Snowflake Forming

Cool, eh?

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

When the bells all ring and the horns all blow
And the couples we know are fondly kissing.
Will I be with you or will I be among the missing?

Maybe it's much too early in the game
Ooh, but I thought I'd ask you just the same
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's eve?

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night
Welcoming in the New Year
New Year's eve

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose
I'd ever be the one you chose
Out of a thousand invitations
You received

Ooh, but in case I stand one little chance
Here comes the jackpot question in advance:
What are you doing New Year's
New Year's Eve?

Matterpics

Many pictures from the season that I haven't gotten around to posting ...

I hope you've all had good holidays, whatever and however you celebrate. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you!

And Be Loved In Return.

The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn.

In Which I'm Told I Destroy Marriage and Threaten Children.

Scott and I headed up to Lynnwood yesterday, to buy some more Halloween decorations (Scott has a problem) and to go to Alderwood Mall to find a few new clothes for me. Luckily, Scott has worked in Lynnwood for many years (although he just transferred to Northgate), so he could navigate us around easily - I get lost when I get out of the city. What we didn't expect was to come across hundreds of protesters rallying against Referendum 71 - which is on the ballot for next month's election to uphold Washington State's domestic partnership law, which grants state rights to same-sex couples and domestic partners over the age of 62.

We were enraged. Yes, everyone has the right to hold and voice their opinions - but this was unreal. Apparrently this group came from a Russian Baptist church in Eastern Washington, and has been very vocal in their opposition of granting us and other same-sex couples any rights whatsoever.

What really appalled me was the number of high-school-aged (and younger) kids who were out there holding signs. Yes, we learn values from our parents and families (most of us), but I don't truly believe that these kids honestly know what they're protesting against other than "people who aren't like us". That's what they are learning from this. It's okay to oppress people who you don't know anything about other than that you've been told they are not like you, and therefore not as good as you (or not good at all).

I know, I know ... I'm preaching to the choir, so why even bother?

Because in the off chance that one of those people who were carrying these signs reads - actually reads - this post, maybe they'll think about this.

Quoting the bible isn't enough. The bible was written by man, not god. There are examples (in the Old Testament) you can pull from it that say that homosexuality is a sin. There are examples you can pull from it that say don't wear white after Labor Day, if you want to spin it enough (I wouldn't be surprised if that's happened already). It's really about interpretation of ancient beliefs based on the time they were written. If those books had been written today, they'd have a different meaning. Depending on who would have written them. Interpretation is huge.

Securing rights for domestic partnerships is not tantamount to gay marriage. Sure, it may lead the way - and of course I'm for that - but you're putting the cart before the horse. That's not what this is about.

My big fat domestic partnership is not attacking the sanctity of your opposite-sex marriage. You can be opposite-married all you want. If Scott and I being together has attacked your marriage or any others', there are much bigger fish to fry. Look in the mirror.

Feel an overwhelming need to preserve and protect marriage? Make divorce illegal. I'd be out marching and waving signs for that in a heartbeat.

Think that the very idea of same-sex couples harms children? How? Do a Google search on the percentage of child molesters who are straight.

Think that the way that homosexuality - and same-sex partnerhips - would harm children is that all children will be required to view explicit homosexual pornography in schools and libraries (yes, this is actually an argument that comes up time and time again)? Where did you get that idea? Please tell me where in Referendum 71 this is shown.

Please, those of you who are against these basic civil rights for us - come to my neighborhood. Meet out neighbors. The straight, child-rearing, working and tax-paying and voting neighbors of ours. Ask them of the destruction we have wrought on our neighborhood and their families and their children. Ask them why they allow their children to trick-or-treat at our house. Ask them why they knock on our door when their kids want to see our pets, and actually let them come inside. Ask them why they let us go camping with them and let their kids see us holding hands. Ask them why they bring cans of chicken soup to our house when we have a cold. Ask them why they offer to let us borrow their mixer when ours died and we're trying to make banana bread. Ask them why they ask us to house-sit and cat-sit and bring in their recycling bins when they go on vacation, why they invite us to dinner and parties and why they stop by and talk to us out in the yard, in full view of the world, and laugh with us and wave as they drive by.

And then, look in the mirror and take a good, hard look. And wonder if your god sees them as less than you because they love and accept and yes, sometimes actually TOUCH us.

MatterPic

Goodbye, Mary Travers.

Dog Is My Co-Pilot.

Dogs are the most incredible thing ever invented.

"There is nothing you can't do"

From Ted Kennedy, Jr.'s eulogy for his father (thanks, John):

"...But today I'm simply compelled to remember Ted Kennedy as my father and my best friend. When I was 12 years old I was diagnosed with bone cancer and a few months after I lost my leg, there was a heavy snowfall over my childhood home outside of Washington D.C. My father went to the garage to get the old Flexible Flyer and asked me if I wanted to go sledding down the steep driveway. And I was trying to get used to my new artificial leg and the hill was covered with ice and snow and it wasn't easy for me to walk. And the hill was very slick and as I struggled to walk, I slipped and I fell on the ice and I started to cry and I said "I can't do this." I said, "I'll never be able to climb that hill." And he lifted me in his strong, gentle arms and said something I'll never forget. He said "I know you'll do it, there is nothing you can't do. We're going to climb that hill together, even if it takes us all day."

Sure enough, he held me around my waist and we slowly made it to the top, and, you know, at age 12 losing a leg pretty much seems like the end of the world, but as I climbed onto his back and we flew down the hill that day I knew he was right. I knew I was going to be OK. You see, my father taught me that even our most profound losses are survivable and it is what we do with that loss, our ability to transform it into a positive event, that is one of my father's greatest lessons. He taught me that nothing is impossible..."


"There is nothing you can't do".

Can't Get It Outta My Head

Okay, now I'm on a Flash Mob quest and we're going to do the next one ... so I was searching for videos on YouTube, and this looks like one of the funnest ones to do ...

Some fun fun fun fun fun sounds good about now, no?

12 Years.

Happy Anniversary, sweetie.

Dog Is My Co-Pilot.

I admit it, I stole this. But hell, I can't look at our dogs and not believe every single word of this.


This is an excerpt from the book "Dog Is My Copilot" (Three Rivers Press, ISBN 1-4000-5053-7). The author is Pam Houston. Enjoy...

LESSON #1 That if your paws are too big to fit in your ears, you have to get someone else to do the scratching.

LESSON #2 That if you want your hand to be licked, you might have to put it under somebody's nose.

LESSON #3 That the exact right dog will always come into your life just when you need him or her most.

LESSON #4 That loving in the face of inevitable loss, is the single most important challenge of our lives.

LESSON #5 That all your new habits. like weeping and praying and talking about your feelings, will actually endear you to more people than they will drive away.

LESSON #6 That sitting in the grass together doing nothing isn't really doing nothing at all.

LESSON #7 That if you love somebody deeply enough, cleaning up their diarrhea doesn't make you want to puke.

LESSON #8 That in the end, the money doesn't matter a bit.

LESSON #9 That sometimes, even if you haven't acted perfectly, the good thing happens after all.

LESSON #10 That everything is forgivable, that every moment contains eternity, and that loving unconditionally doesn't mean you are a self-annihilating fool.

"I ask (my dog) for a story to go with lesson #10, and he says in his Zen-ish way that there isn't one story that goes with this rule because they all do. He says that lesson #10 is what every dog has been trying to teach every human since the beginning of time."

Happy Fourth of July

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".