Three Reviews, 4.11.2021

 

Tomorrow sex will be good again by Angel

 

I’m a member of the Verso book club where the publisher sends you a book every month. It’s cool and I like supporting independent publishers.

 

I have enjoyed most of the texts that I’ve chosen from the list.

 

This one didn’t really do it for me. It’s a thin hardback I read over a couple of days and then the next day I really couldn’t articulate what I read – It wasn’t bad so I’m not mad that I read it, but it also wasn’t good, so I have warm memories of it. At best it was forgettable, and I feel bad since I might not be the direct audience, but I do consider myself a feminist ally. So, this is just my incredibly subjective opinion, and your mileage may differ.

 

Money: A Suicide Note by Amis

I had this book on my shelf for years and I recently picked it up because I was looking for something different. The first book I read from Amis was Time’s Arrow, and I loved it so much I went and bought a handful of this other books, but it seemed like Time’s Arrow was just a one off and I didn’t seem to like the other things I tried to read.

 

I did finish this one though. And I have to say I think it is the worst book I ever finished that I read on my own. I usually don’t have a problem putting books down if I don’t like them,  but I kept chugging on this one and I don’t know why exactly. Amis does some stylistic things here that I would normally like- the main character is the narrator, and he breaks the fourth wall, there is a secondary character who is a writer named “Martin Amis”.

 

The problem is that the main character is one of the unredeemable creatures. I think Amis was going for a Catcher in the Rye / Confederacy of Dunces thing, but it doesn’t hit. John Self, the main character is an 80s guy doing horrible 80s things in New York and London, and for me it isn’t interesting. He’s horrible but I don’t care about him in that I don’t want him to succeed or fail. That’s not great when the book is so character driven.

 

 

Years of Rice and Salt by Robinson

This is an interesting book. Before I read it, the only thing I knew was the premise – that it was an alternate history positing what would happen if the black death had been more fatal. Perfect pandemic reading.

 

Thoughts: I was expecting it to be more focused on the empty European continent that it was. Shows how Eurocentric I am.

 

The individual stories are impressive. Robinson had to do this larger world building, but then get more specific about not only the culture but how they might have changed as there was greater divergence in the world as it is and the world as he dreamed it. This does make it a bit hard to read, as you get used to one set of characters and the situation and then it moves on.

 

There is in the world he builds a parallel to the actual world, so there are equivalents to Newton and Einstein and Columbus, but they have different names and native tongues. Were I drafting a paper on this book, that might be the thing I focus on. Is Robinson positing some sort of teleology in technological development?

 

Ultimately as a novel it doesn’t really work because it’s not building to anything narratively, it just cycles and fades. But it’s hard to complain because that’s really history, right? One dang thing after another.

 

There is one story that centers around a kid who is captured and made into a eunuch and that was very troubling and hard to read part. But it did make me do more research on eunuchs, a thing I was not expecting happening from reading this text.

Learning New Patterns: No More Belly Rubs

This is a follow up post to my journal  detailing the week I knew when we would have to say goodby to my beloved dog Barney. I wanted to make sure that I documented my thoughts and emotions so I could remember  the details. I haven't had the emotional strength to go re-read it so it might be a little raw.

####

Wrote up the above and posted it after a walk. Watching more movies and being sad when people post in sympathy. Looked over to his bed a couple times, the subconscious checking on him that I've gotten used to over the years. So worn out. Such great grief because of all the joy he brought.

Going through the nightly routine without him broke me. No letting him out or giving him treats. No pushing the table back so he could get up in the couch. I'm not sure if he was on the couch last night though. Went to give him his morning belly rubs and he was on his bed. So I moved Mort so I could sit next to him and he let me pet him for a while before moving back to the door. One of the harder things as he aged was that he snuggled less. I think it was part of his declining eyesight and hearing. Or the loss of padding as he became more skin and bone. 

Can’t sleep. Tired but the minute I try to fall asleep I start with this wave of grief. 

##3/26/2021

Today is the first morning without any belly rubs.

I would love to have things to do as a distraction but the pandemic makes that next to impossible.

Even though I know he won't be there, I keep looking at his favorite spots just to check on him. Turning my head only to remember.

Here's the screenshot of the last walk I took with him and then the walk on Monday where I knew it was time. Poor guy, he loved his walks.

I started this trying to savor every minute I was left. But now that he's gone there is just grief. Grief feels le ss momentous or notable. I'm sad and it's hard to say exactly why I'm sad. I can think of memories just like the very first time I brought him home I drove home from Uncle John's house in Kansas City and I had them in the back of the truck but he kept trying to smell outside cuz I had the window down a bit and he would get right up behind me and make it hard to drive.

I was trying to find his breeder to just ride a thank you now until how much I love them. But all I can remember is that they were an Airedale breeder near or outside Sedalia Missouri. And I googled it and I can't be sure if the people that looks like it might be or actually them. I can't find any stuff in any of my email either my Gmail account or my old Yahoo stuff. I don't know if Dad called me about it and we talked but you definitely didn't email.

I keep doing this thing where I walk into the living room and I subconsciously look at the couch or his bed to check on him like I always do, and then there's a split second before I remember and catch what I'm doing consciously and it breaks my heart every f****** time.

I did pick up his collar and smell it pretty deeply It still smells like him has his oils. That made me sad too.

If anything breaks me, it is these acts of remembering. Looking at the time and seeing it's 9:13 and thinking I should let him out. And then thinking about this and mindlessly filling up the cat food bowl and looking over at the dog bowl to see if he needs anything. And then that brief moment before remembering.

##3/27/2021

Thinking about grief last night. When I was a little kid I had a hobby horse and something happened to it that the head got ruined. I don't remember the horse or the act of destruction, but I remember the sorrow I had over the loss. My mom tried to make it better. She made me a new hobby horse, this time with a blue head. It wasn't the same. I eventually got another "brown headed horsie" as I called it as I cried and wailed. In how people experience an perform grief I have always been vocal. Now I try to hold it back, not out of masculine ideals but consideration for the person sitting next to me.

Grief never ends. I still cry for those I lost a half a lifetime ago or more. It just becomes less surprising and more familiar. 

Fewer random breakdowns today. Picked up the last few pellets of food from his last meal he didn't eat. Doing chores. Normal things I'd relate with him. Still looking for him, but more knowing he's gone. Anita picked up his ashes and brought him home. It's nice to have him here. But hard.

Keeping busy helps, but at the between times when not doing things hurts. Lets the mind drift.

#3/28/2021

I was really hoping to get to sleep last night without crying myself to sleep. Maybe tonight it will happen.

I have these posts on facebook and it's nice but everytime I get a notification because someone has left kind words it makes me sad again.

Fewer breakdowns today. Washing dishes, cooking eggs, doing the nightly chores. Normal things that we would have done together. Anita cleaned the house and picked up some of his things - his food and water bowl, the yoga mats we had for padding his walk. Told her I wasn't ready to move the beds yet. Will do some sort of ceremony in the near future but not ready to think about that. Trying to keep busy and the mind occupied.

##3/29/2021

Mostly successful in not crying myself to sleep last night. The grief is still there but I'm learning to wear it. Just resting on my shoulders. It's this shirt that everyone wears, a sadness that accumulates through every loss and we're defined in part by how we wear it. I saw someone posting on twitter saying that the tradition of mourning clothes makes sense in that you are newly wearing new grief but you don't want to explain it to people. I think I could talk about Barney for about 30 seconds right now without breaking down.

The whole thing just reopened newer wounds from Dad's death. 

Not sure what kind of ceremony to do. There's a sense of finality there I'm not ready for yet. I walked down the steps looking for him at the bottom of the steps and on the couch and on the bed. Hoping he'd somehow be there.

Did notice that Anita tossed those three pellets I set aside. Makes sense, since I didn't say anything. But felt more loss. Wasn't sure what I would do with them but that they were still there symbolized a bridge to when he was alive. 

Took a picture of the bag the other day, and it's just sitting there.

Very tasteful, and they use the same empty collar imagining that I used earlier.

Remembering the other day when I broke down about Cheetoes, since he loved the puffs. They were pretty much the last human food he got, since we pulled back on all other human food when he started having digestion issues a couple of years ago. We also still gave him eggs, but only if they weren’t cooked in bacon grease or over seasoned. 

How do people without dogs pick up the food they drop? It’s literally something I haven’t thought of for a long time. Those crumbs maybe were the last human food he got that was varied. 

Mom and Dad always kept more than one dog at a time. I can see the benefit because I want another pupper to hug right now. The cats aren’t cutting it. It was the same thing when Casey died, just alone in the basement.

Pet death is something you know is going to happen the day you get them. And with Barney it was something I started facing two years ago when he was having issues with both his ears and the coughing. We cleared that up, but I came to terms with the idea that we might not. And it was something that became real last September when he had the episode at the groomer. I really thought I was going to lose him then. Luckily we had another six months where I got to pet him and tell him I loved him and snuggle with him. But it doesn’t really make it any easier.

I am still sad.Going to get a clicker to count how many times I cried. Going to get a curio cabinet to keep all the mementoes of the dead as they accumulate. 

Just a huge part of me doesn’t want to be alone upstairs. His ghost is here in the basement too, where he used to move between the couch and his bed and the closet, but it has been a while since I found him in the closet. Maybe the floor was too hard for him or the concrete too cold. Did turn and look for him on the couch. But it already seems to be happening a bit less.

I’m really glad that I get to see Bear, the neighbor’s dog. He’s a friendly and playful boy who also likes belly rubs, but it’s not the same.

Received a couple of sympathy cards today. It was incredibly thoughtful, and way more than I would do. Of course it did made me sad again.

As long as I keep my mind busy, I'm good. Apparently I can't do the pet chores without crying though.

##3/30/3021

Still sad. Crying less. Managed not to cry myself to sleep last night. Keeping busy is the key. Just wish things were open so we could have gone somewhere.

Glad I had those days off!

Those idle moments of reflection are what break me.

Called Bear “Barney” when I was over there today. That made me sad. 

##3/31/2021

Woke up to go pee and started thinking about him. Wasn’t able to fall back asleep.

I miss my stinky buddy, my smelly teddy bear.

The difference between sadness and depression is that sadness is active. It takes a lot of energy to be sad.

I haven't had any dreams about him. On one hand this is good since it means I haven't woken up sad. But in the other hand it means I haven't seen him again, even in dreamland.

I feel a responsibility to mourn. His passing will be noted by so few. My tears are a vindication that his life on this earth mattered.

I really need to stop mindlessly looking at the couch when I enter the living room.

I had thought that I was somewhat mentally prepared for all of this. I think there’s some sorts of things that you can imagine and get yourself ready for, like the decision to put him down and the moment in the vet’s office, but what I was not ready for was the absence. You can’t prep for that.

Thinking about my mom. There’s been several things in the last year or two that would have sucked without the pandemic. My grandma died in august of 2019 and my dad died in February of 2020. My mom lost her mom and her life companion, love of her life, father of her children in the span of half a year. And then the pandemic hit. Still working through all that.

I had known that Barney’s end was coming. I was in denial but we had talked through it. Knowing that a decision would be made eventually. But someone had to make it. It was when we were walking that Monday that I knew. I got home and sat down on the couch and was waiting for anita as she worked late. I asked for a hug and she asked what was wrong and I nodded towards Barney and she asked what’s wrong and I said “I think it’s time”. That was all I needed to say but it was the first time I vocalized it. I knew that I would have to be the one that made the decision finally but saying it broke my heart. And I have no doubt that it was the kind and compassionate thing to do (especially as it seemed that last week was even harder than normal for him as he was panting more and having more trouble getting up and down) but good damn that was hard. And it’s something you know is coming the minute you bring a puppy home. This pain is worth all the joy he brought for over fourteen years. But it’s a lot of pain right now.

##4/1/2021

It doesn’t stop hurting, you just get more used to it. I was thinking I was ok since I didn’t cry myself to sleep last night nor did I wake up crying so I was a bit steady. Then I realized that right now about a quarter to eleven would be around the time we put him to sleep a week ago. Still sad. 

Ok, I was not ready to go back and re-read some of the things I had written yet.

How has it already been a week? It feels like limbo. I moved his beds into the closet that we call Lynn’s Room. He used to like to go in there to lay down. I think it was quiet and dark and the ground helped him cool down. I think the ground got too hard for him since it had been a while since he went back there. I wanted to have them stop reminding me of him and making me cry every time I glanced over automatically but didn’t want to throw them out just yet. Trying to defamiliarize the place a bit. But now where there was some life there’s just the empty space.

Going to bed tonight as anita was brushing her teeth downstairs, I was thinking to myself it hadn't been a bad day, only broke down crying like four or five times. And that set me off, so now we're at five or six. It just comes over me but doesn't usually linger as long. Anita comes to pet me to make me feel better. 

##4/2/2021

Like four good cries? It's about relearning life with fewer footsteps in the house. Actually watching food I drop. Not singling out a slice of ham as a treat. And so much silence, the unprepared and impossible silence. Keeping busy so my mind doesn't wander. 

##4/3/2021

Still can’t really sit alone in the living room. Want to rearrange the furniture a bit so the spot where his bed was isn’t such a blank empty space that makes me sad every time I look at it. 

Still doing the thing where I subconsciously work around like he’s still alive. In two minutes after showering I walked out and popped my head in the living room only to make myself mad and then on the way down the stairs thought to myself I should check on him before I go to the basement. Just bums me out, man.

I just miss my doggy.

##4/4/2021

Was doing so good. But near the end of the day, taking out the kitty litter looking at the big yard and thinking about what a big yard we have and no one to run around in it. And then getting ready for bed. Tears come from the habits I associate with him. And that is it from now on. When those memories come like with Dad and Marc and Tamra and Allison, living through our memories. Even the happy memories tinged with sadness. 

##4/6/2021

Every day is a little bit better. I’m getting used to the new normal, but still sad when I think about things. Pets are just so much a part of your life from the first belly rub in the morning to the last little pet on the head at night. It sucks when that part is wrenched out of you. 

##4/7/2021

The tears still come but they’re less overwhelming. It’s just this absence that has descended over the house and in my soul. Not much more original to say. 

##4/11/2021

Still crying a bit every day. The other day I decided it was time to try to donate his food and just the thought of it made me sad and I asked Anita to do it instead. Glad not to have that visual reminder in the house and hopeful some other dog and their family will benefit.

Thought about the resistance his collar gave as I pulled the loop and clipped in his leash as we got ready to go out the door for a walk. Dreamed about the jingle of his tags. Or was I awake?

It is these transitions, the times when I would normally check on him where he is and how he is doing that still happen, leaving the room or coming in or going to bed. I know he’s gone but the habits are still learning.

##

I’ve been thinking about this photo a lot recently. Every time I go outside I see our big yard. 

I still remember looking for places eight and a half years ago. We didn’t have a lot of money so a lot of the places all had something wrong, since most were short sales or foreclosures. The moment we walked out the back door I looked over and saw the garage and based on what we had seen at other houses I immediately assumed that it was the garage for the neighbor and I asked our relator and he said it was part of the property. In my mind that was when I decided that this was the best place we’d seen. The inside was a little run down but you can fix that up, you can’t make more land. And it was that nice big yard so Barney could have a place to run around. Even though he was always a more indoors dog, he had the chance to go out and chase the bunnies until they got too fast him. He’d go out in the year and when he was ready to come back in he’d walk not in a direct line to the door but would find the closest sidewalk so he wouldn’t have to walk on the grass too much.

Losing him has been hard but it has been made easier by all the kind words from friends and family - cards and letters and donations! Everyone is just too kind.. Barney was a part of my life for so long It’s hard to unlearn those patterns that were ingrained in our way of being. One day we’ll have another furry friend to run around in that yard, but he’ll always be my buddy.

Saying Goodbye to Barney

Today - I mourn. I lost my best friend. It was his end, but he lived a long life full of love. Anita and I loved him as deeply and strongly as we could, and he loved us. This isn’t the first time I have lost a pet I adore, and it won’t be the last. Knowing his suffering is gone makes it a little easier, but it’s not easy. Loving a pet is an intensely personal act. That bond created becomes a silent dance as you grow into each other’s habits, know where to scratch and they know the sound of your steps as you come to the door. Barney had many friends and if you ever met him you were one of them. As I mourn, I also want to celebrate that love shared between people and their furry friends. Give your friend a pet or a squeeze and tell them you love them. And then give them an extra from us.

Barnabe Riche in Brighter Days

 
Below are notes I took for the last several days, so these moments don’t get forgotten as the ones you have love and lost live on in our memories. 

#3/23/2021
 
Yesterday evening Anita and I had a hard conversation where we decided that Barney's age and infirmities had caught up to him and the cumulative effect is that he can't really function and is uncomfortable most of his waking day. So, we're going to be looking to put him to sleep. I love him very much and this breaks my heart. One of the great tragedies of life is how short our pets live. He's been in decline for years but the last few weeks we've had a couple things that really illustrated to us that it is time to say goodbye. Needless to say, I am a mess and not being very productive workwise right now. I think I'll need a couple of days off but I'm not sure of the timeline right now.
 
My family had a lot of dogs growing up, but I only had a few that I considered my dog, and somehow, they all died too young. I've been blessed I've been able to have Barney for over 14 years, but I still selfishly want him to live forever.

Couch Terrier

Can ignore pooping in the house and feel sad that he has trouble getting up and down, but when he falls walking more than once, something is up.
 
I’ve cried a lot so far, and it was just on making the decision. The hardest was when I remembered that he was a gift from Dad, and that was a connection there. And also, when crying about him made me think of all my other dogs. 

 
It is partly selfish. Cleaning up poop daily and waking up in the middle of the night isn’t fun.

One last Treat

But I think I really understand people who are ok with the death of those who they love and who have suffered. Being around Barney and watching his decline has been a bit of a denial, pretending that the constellation of things wrong with him really aren’t wrong with him but also knowing that if a healthy dog woke up like he is now we’d be wigged out. The decline is slow enough you don’t notice it. The real hard thing is that you can’t talk to your dog to really get his consent. 

 
I want to be there with him when passes, but I also really don’t want to.
 
He’s my buddy and it breaks my heart how much I love him.
 
I wonder what he’s thinking as we pet him more and cry. 
 
##3/24/2021
 
Anita as I was leaning on her Tuesday night and starting to cry: “Are you getting sad again?”
 
I think this is one of the things made harder by covid. We called the vet and first got their voicemail. And then we called and talked to a receptionist, and the vet on duty was busy. I don’t think we’ve seen one of his normal vets for a year and a half since the pandemic started right before his normal checkup date. He has seen a vet, but the only time we got face to face was with the tired woman at Countryside and that was really focused on the emergency situation. So, we called and got the voicemail, and then we called and got a receptionist who left a message and then this morning we did the same thing, hoping for a call back. I’m exhausted. And sad. 
 
But in a way it sucks because we’re just looking for permission to do the thing, we already decided needs done. If I think it’s time, dude, it must be time. 
 
I remember thinking along the lines of “When the time comes, I’ll be ok since he’s lived a long full life.” Well, I was wrong there. I’ve been mentally preparing for losing him for a couple of years, but I am still not ready. 
 
He’s been such a good dog.
 
We just talked to the vet and Merrick isn’t allowing people in the office. The countryside vet will allow people to come in, so we’re going there.
 
I wanted to snuggle with him on the couch, but I think it agitates him and makes him uncomfortable. You see these stories about people taking their dog out and do the things they like to do, but the reason we’re at the point where we are is that he doesn’t like doing the things he used to like to do. At times laying down is a chore. 

Photoshoot

 
Tried chilling upstairs, but I think he may be reading me, weirded out that I’m acting weird.
 
Took him for his last walk today. He stumbled a couple of times but not as bad as he did on Monday. Interesting juxtaposition in that the weather is a spring day. The lawns are greening. The bulbs in people’s gardens are coming up, but I’m walking in the neighborhood with him one last time and I’m the only one in the neighborhood who knows it.
 
I have been lucky that I’ve been around him for the last year. I’ve gotten to be with him more, And I bet that’s actually helped extend his life.
 
I owe it to Anita for being the strong one, but It’s also got to be a burden on her, always being the strong one. 
 
Now he’s laying calmly at my feet, in a spot he never lays in.
 
And he farted himself awake and went over to his bed.
 
What’s weird is that on Monday, after cleaning up poop, I noticed the Nature’s Miracle cleaner was running low. I put a new bottle in my cart, but I didn’t buy it when normally I have no issue making purchases. What did I know then, before the walk? Compare this to last week. I bought a big bag of food and several boxes of treats. I guess the thought was there can be nothing wrong with him if I have a bunch of food. I literally just opened the food the other day. That’s a sunk cost. 
 
It's incredibly hard to go through the motions of the day knowing that they will be the last time I do these acts with him. Habits, a nightly dance furrows plowed year after year.
 
And today and yesterday there have been no major poop accidents. Haven't had to clean the floor. But today his mobility has been worse. Falling on the floor in the back, needing help up. But he didn't fall on the walk. But stumbled.
 
Fuck. I don't want to go to bed because it brings the morning.
 
It's weird how focused I was on his last few age milestones. Fourteen. Fourteen and a half. If he made one, he could make the next. Subdivide that to days and hours. If he made it through this minute, we can be assured of his survival for the next. But those minutes draw few. 
 
Perhaps this can be a bookend for the long year that started with dad dying last February. 
 
##3/25/2021

To everything a season

 
A weird thing I've noticed when I woke up yesterday. I've had songs that they were getting stuck in my head. And I think my subconscious was picking songs trying to mentally help and soothe me. For whatever reason Tuesday's Gone and Freebird. And then last night after I woke up to let him out when he was moving around, the song that got stuck in my head was 1999 by Prince. Specifically, the line the life is but a party the party aren't meant to last. 

Also, the Byrds, Turn Turn Turn.
 
I guess today is the day and there's no denying that.
 
Was petting him as he was laying on the ground, but I was too much for him, so he got up and moved. I just want to hug him and tell him I love him, but it will agitate him and he's laying down so peacefully in his spot by the door. I've told him I love him a million times in his life so at least there's no regrets there. Still, it has been one of the hardest weeks of my life, just overwhelmed by grief at times. Stuck here in the interregnum between having made the decision and acting on it. Keep thinking about the end of the Stranger as Meursault faces his death.
 
Robot wife in the other room doing work stuff when I'm giving him his last treat, taking him out. Stumbled again getting up and then again up the stairs. I worry about him every time, but I really don't want him to get hurt now. 
 
I joke but she's very strong or at least good at pretending to be strong.
 
The process at the vet was nice. We pulled up and were right in and had an opportunity to say goodbye. I've been imagining the moment for days, so it wasn't as bad as I was worried about. Still incredibly hard but I didn't pass out. After they sedated him, they hit him with the drug. It was the first time he really seemed relaxed for a while. I lay next to him on the ground until I started hurting and pet his head one more time. Anita had his collar as we were leaving, and I heard his tags jingle which made me look back until I realized what was happening.
 
The house is quiet. 
 
I went to pick up some things and went to grab the bottle we filled his water bowl with. Instead of taking it to the sink I mindlessly poured some water in the bowl. It took a second before I realized what I was doing and then I broke down. I imagine that will be the first of many times something similar happens.
 
Tried to do some comfort activities. Went to Culver's. Watching Half Baked. Still so silent in the house.

9/15/2006 - 3/25/2021