caleb walker

communimacation

A few loosely related things:

• I follow a few friends on Twitter, but I'm thinking about unsubscribing to some of them since recent tweets look a lot like this: "RT @Vandelay @HDoofus @Mulva July 25 #Nothing event at bit.ly/LiNkItY #Whatsit #UmWhatNow." And it's just too much cognitive effort to figure out what's being said. Why not use the 140-character size limit as a challenge? Like the 100-word essays we do in my writing group as an exercise in word choice, in focus, in clarity.
• I got a cell phone last weekend and haven't received any calls yet. I'm not too happy about paying a monthly fee for a digital pocket clock.
• When KR cooks, the dogs like to lay around her feet. I'd think they wanted to catch dropped food, but when she does drop something they're oblivious until she points it out to them. Anyway, they're always in the way when she's cooking and the command she uses is "Get out of the kitchen." Georgia slinks away then, and Kaden stands up, not sure what to do until we push him far enough away. The other morning KR was doing her yoga in the bedroom. This attracts the dogs, too. I was in the office next to the bedroom when I heard her say, "Get out of the kitchen." The results of the experiment were inconclusive; Kaden gave the same slack-jawed stare as when he's actually in the kitchen.

That's about it for now.

month-end catch-up

End of the month and I'm beginning my last post for NaBloPoMo at 11:30pm.

Tomorrow it's back to the office, back to the routine. I'm kind of looking forward to that.

Last night we had dinner with a bunch of friends, including the owners of a B&B in the Finger Lakes region of New York. I could listen all night to Michele tell stories about their life up there: her Amish neighbors, the horses (imagine six enormous work horses running loose down the road), ducks, cats, the birds. Michele is one of the few people I can count on to read this thing on a regular basis.

Tonight we watched all three DVDs we had sitting on the tv stand. A few minutes into Manhattan I said, "I wish our tv was bigger." The whole movie is shot in gorgeous black and white. (Here's the opening scene. It's in Spanish because the English versions I found were all in the wrong aspect ratio; they're squished.)

And that pretty much does it for NaBlo 08. I can't keep this up all year long so you'll just have to check back again in a few days. (Or do the RSS thing. It's a life-changing technology.) Thanks for reading.

how to interview

It's the middle of November, there's snow in the grass, and we still have confused robins flapping around in the trees. In fact, it seems we have more robins now than we had during the summer. These must be the ones who live up north and who are just passing through on their way south.

The quantity of birds in the trees this week, along with yesterday's job interview, remind me of a story. Yesterday my interview was held in a conference room with big windows, which I put at my back when I chose my seat at the table. It was a subconscious decision, but I think it was a real decision, and here's why. (I swear I wrote about this before, but don't see it on the site.)

Many years ago I interviewed at UPenn's veterinary school, which is on a beautiful rural campus. I spoke with one person after another and as I remember it everyone asked what sort of video camera I would buy for them and I didn't have an answer for any of them. I ended my day with the school's director. He was a tall Australian man and had a very nice office. He sat at the table with his back to a large window. I sat across from him and we talked a while but eventually I noticed a mockingbird in the field over his shoulder.

It flapped and hopped around. It disappeared into bushes and reappeared. Mockingbirds have white bands on their wings and tails that flash as they fly. I didn't hear much of what the director said to me once that started. I didn't get the job.

georgia's dog

Ever since Abi died we've known we had to get Georgia another dog. She used to curl up against his belly in the cold weather and, we realize, relied on his big slow presence more than we'll know. Even now, four months after he died, she occasionally gets a look on her face like loneliness. So we've been looking for a second dog (and a third one who would be the shop dog). Today our friend who manages the Animal Rescue League's kennel had us up to look at a couple likely candidates.

Shadow is a long-haired black mix of probably border collie and lab. He's being treated for a skin problem so he's a little flakey and bare in spots. But he has a nice big lab head and he made good eye contact with us and was friendly and behaved well on his walk around the grounds.

Jasper was another long-haired border collie mix, but mottled brown, black, and white. He was good too, and knew a few commands. I think he was the one who came from a family who was evicted from their home and had the kids clinging to him as he was given over to the shelter.

We liked Jasper better, but the final decision was up to Georgia. So we went home and brought her back to the kennel. Jasper did nothing but bark at her, baring his teeth. Strikes one, two, and three. Shadow and she got along great on the initial meeting. They walked around the grounds fine, but did not pay much attention to each other except a few occasional butt-sniffs. Once we were back inside the office Shadow mounted her and she nearly bit his face off. Uh oh, we thought. Trouble in paradise. We let them get close again. He put a paw on her back and she hated that too. I swear I heard her say, "Don't touch me, you mongrel."

It was unexpected, but it turns out Georgia has standards. I thought she liked all the boy dogs but it looks like she won't allow a sucker to show dominance over her. Go girl.

stuff i like

Maybe I'll start a series of posts this month on things I like. That should provide a couple days' worth of posts, anyway.

Today was an oxymoron: a warm sunny November day. So KR and I took Georgia to the park. We did it last week and had a good time. KR had expected it to be a terrible ordeal, what with Georgia pulling at the leash and struggling to get out of her collar to go play with the other dogs and misbehaving in every imaginable way. Unexpectedly, Georgia was great. We walked the paths in the woods and met a bunch of other good dogs.

So today we did it again. And we met more good dogs. Four or five were chasing around the grassy area near the parking lots. We stopped to watch and soon a black shepherd mix ran right over and dropped a stick at my feet. One of those who wants to get everyone involved in the activity. So I threw the stick. He went after it and took it to someone else.

Further along the path, the fenced-in leashless area was full of people standing around talking to each other and dogs running through the stream and up the leafy hill on the other side. One slender black dog stood still, belly-deep in the muddy stream. Just being there. Enjoying the moment. Until a pack of others charged through and he joined them.

Stuff I like #1: dogs.

little mooses in a sprinkler

Little mooses in a sprinkler.

Mute it, though. There's a sappy song overlaid on it that seems to have nothing to do with mooses in sprinklers. (Maybe later verses do - I ripped out my earphones.) In fact, it's an ironic song choice since it says "you say it best when you say nothing at all" and the video conveys the message so much better than the song does.

later that day

I lay on the bed next to KR last night. She wanted to read, but I wanted to talk about Abi. It's hard for me to remember him before the arthritis and incontinence, before we had to barricade him in the kitchen all night and all day, before he was too lame to walk all the way around the house. But we remembered a lot together:

He used to let out a shrieking whine when meeting another dog on the street on his walk. He loved chasing a frisbee more than anything, and would sometimes carry one on his walks, which impeded his efforts to smell every little thing along the route. KR mentioned the time he carried a frisbee into the house at dinner time and dropped it so it covered his bowl. I brought up his weird bark, kind of a falsetto "hoof!" he used when he was up on the porch and dogs passed way down at the street. After thunderstorms we would have to lift the coffee table off of him, he had wedged himself under there so thoroughly. Everyone wanted to get in his bed with him. Georgia, of course, but also a visiting Great Dane puppy, our nephew, even me. He was very accommodating. At night he would come upstairs with us and go into the office to sleep, as if he was off duty and wanted to sleep apart from his bratty little sister. Then there was the time when KR yelled at him for getting in the trash and he slunk off to the far side of the dining room table and hid his face in his hands. Neither of us ever yelled at him again after that first time.

goodbye to another good dog

We once thought about devoting ourselves to adopting old dogs from the shelter and giving them a good home for their final years. But today we had Abi put to sleep and it's awfully hard to do. I thought putting a pet to sleep would get easier after going through it once before (with Caleb). While the process is easier, now that we know who to call, what happens, and what to do about the, uh, remains, making the decision to end a dog's life will never get easier.

We never officially adopted Abi. He just came to live with us after being abandoned in the yard of someone who couldn't keep him. We had been looking for a second dog, someone to keep Georgia company and maybe teach her how to be a good dog. So we brought him home and named him Abi, a Turkish expression of respect for older men. (I'm sometimes called Abi when I'm in Turkey and I consider it a great compliment.)

Abi took to his new name and to his new home and to his new role. He greeted visitors with well-behaved affection while Georgia, skittish even with people she knows, stood back watching, figuring out how to get some of that affection for herself. In this way Abi taught her how to behave with people.

Five years ago next week, when we took Abi in, a vet guessed that he was about 10 years old and looked to be in good health, but otherwise, we didn't know much about him. We figured out a few things, though. His favorite toys were Frisbees and he knew what pizza was and always expected his own piece. We suspect he lived with a bachelor.

These last few months he could barely hoist himself up from his bed to go out. Once he was outside, though, he loved being outside and he especially loved snow. He liked lying on the front porch with us and barking at passing dogs. When he no longer had the stamina for a full walk around the neighborhood and could no longer climb the stairs up to the house, we walked him around the outside of the house. In the last few days he would walk from the back door to the front and lie down. I began sitting with him in the dark yard. I sat with him last night until I could no longer stand the mosquitoes.

A few days ago KR made the appointment with the vet and became a little misty immediately. It didn't hit me until yesterday morning. As I left the house for work I patted his head and said, "Watch the house," like I always do, and realized this would be his last day to watch the house. I was wiping at my eyes half the way to the bus stop. Those last 24 hours were pretty rough, with all the "This will be his last dinner," his last walk around the house, his last time struggling to get up the step and in the back door.

We decided to have a vet come to the house because we wanted to spare Abi the stress of a visit to the vet's office. We also wanted to give Georgia the chance to understand where he's gone. As the vet gave him the two injections, KR held Abi's head and I had a hand on his side as his panting changed and eventually stopped. Once it was finished and the vet had gone to take his bag to his truck, we let Georgia in the room to have a look at him, but she was more interested in sniffing the chair where the vet's bag had been. She did sniff Abi's face briefly, though, and I have to think that was enough for her.

Once Abi was gone from the house, KR, Georgia, and I wandered out to the front porch and sat on the top step. The sun was shining and birds were singing in the trees.

zoo

My fifteen-year-old nephew's here for the weekend and today KR and I took him to the Pittsburgh Zoo & PPG Aquarium. (PPG is Pittsburgh Plate Glass, a suitable sponsor for an aquarium, I think.) It was a beautiful sunny Sunday and there must have been 600 Midsized Cars of people there. I learned a lot in our two-hour visit.

Zoos smell bad. We learned this on the long escalator ride from the parking lot to the zoo entrance. Even before we had seen any wild and dangerous animals someone ahead of us farted (I can't help thinking it was the woman right ahead of us who had pushed her granddaughter's stroller onto the escalator). We thought about turning around and pushing back down the escalator and to the car.

A related lesson is that monkeys smell worse than people and bats smell worse than monkeys. KR ran through the monkey house holding her nose, while my nephew and I strolled through, pretending not to be sickened by the smell. Later, in the bat room of the reptile house (KR did not even set foot in there where the SNAKES were), even our best pretending could not keep us in the room for more than about three breaths. Even though the bats were in their own glass cage my eyes burned as I groped for the exit door. (Later, at home, KR nearly bathed me in tomato juice.)

I can also say that, based on those two hours, most animals are well behaved and most people are not. I'm not talking about the kids.

All intelligent creatures sleep in the afternoon. I admit that, like my fellow zoo visitors, I am not, and I do not. The African Wild Dogs were all lying in the shade far away from us, twitching their ears in their sleep. A large woman standing near me said, "This zoo is full of lazy animals." I suppose she's right, in a way. The Kodiak Bear was playing in the water and tossing around a big plastic thing that had been chewed beyond recognizability, but he was just mugging for the camera. He would stop occasionally and look at us.

Embarrassing stuff fascinates kids. The meerkats were laying in a pile in their glass enclosure. One randy critter was enthusiastically humping the last meerkat in the pile. I swear he was smiling. Now, this is one of those enclosures that has clear domes in its middle. Kids can crawl through tunnels beneath the exhibit and poke their heads up and get a close look at the animals. So while this meerkat was enjoying himself he had an audience of three or four little kids. Parents at the main window were turning away, sometimes snickering.

I have often freely admitted that I love zoos. Today, despite the Kodiak's and the meerkat's best efforts, I learned that I don't need to go to any more zoos.

read baby

It's been a long time since I submitted a column to Intrepid Media. I've got a couple dozen false starts, vague ideas, and nearly finished bad ideas going, but nothing worth posting.

Yesterday I took Georgia to the vet for her shots and when I got home a story fell out of me and I posted it. It's called Baby: a story. Check it out and leave a comment.