Dog Food For Breakfast

So I was half watching television the other night and a commercial caught my eye. I know I hadn’t seen it before because I would have remembered it. It was an advertisement for dog food. This advertisement brought to my mind the discussions I have had throughout my life as a pet owner; conversations that I think all kids in particular have. Can dogs see in the dark? Do cats know their names? Do horses have tastebuds? There is a word for attributing human characteristics to animals. It is anthropomorphizing (I think I got that right). I remember when I learned that word, I just loved it. How great that there is this wonderful big word for what children (and adults) do with their pets all the time. We think our pets are glad to see us when they probably are just hungry. We talk to our pets. I often think, while I am talking to my cats, “what must they be thinking about this crazy human babbling on.” The implicit assumption is that I believe they understand English; interesting. We wonder what is in the mind of a dog, probably nothing but eating, sleeping and so forth. And eating brings me back on subject. The ad was for dog food flavored and named as eggs and bacon, and various other breakfast foods. They were actually referring to them as “breakfasts”. Do we really think a dog knows eggs and bacon are for breakfast, do we really think the dog cares? Dog food for breakfast anyone?

My Husband Thinks Menopause is a Permanent Condition

The poor dear. My personal version of menopause (including the mini hell they call peri menopause) started in my mid forties. A little more than a decade ago. It all began with severe fatigue (the kind where you can’t get out of bed) and vicious mood swings. At first this was hard to distinguish from my usual emotional volatility but it ultimately became clear that it was a bit more than the crazy we were used to. A good doctor helped a bit with some low dose birth control which morphed into low dose compounded (yes there was actually a pharmacy still compounded custom medications!!!!!) hormones as things went from bad to worse. Of course you have to keep in mind that I still got the monthly pms. In my naive mind I always thought my periods would get less problematic as this time of my lilfe approached. HAH! I had never had particularly difficult periods, until now. As things progressed I had periods from hell, pms that wouldn’t quit, hot flashes and night sweats, all at the same time. This made it easy to believe in some cosmic punishment although I can’t imagine what I could have done to deserve this. Meanwhile my husband is marginally surviving crying jags, screaming harridan episodes…you get the picture. The other peculiar metamorphosis that began taking place was the sleeping temperature at our house. When first we were together, I was always bundled up in a down comforter and nightgown. My husband was always naked with a leg sticking out from under the covers in order to keep cool enough. Now I had windows open, fans running and the temperature as cool as I could get it. Tanks tops and panties was about as much as I could, still can, stand (too much information?). So now my poor husband is putting on long sleeved shirts and extra blankets in an effort to keep off the menopausal chill. The doctors say when you go a year without a period you are through. I clung to this thought like a life raft. And each time I approached a year… you can guess. This went on for years. I have finally passed the magical year mark and now they say well, some folks never lose all the symptoms. How encouraging. There is good news, however. As time has passed the mood swings have subsided and we are back to the old crazy which is familiar (although after this long not as familiar as you might think). The heat is less persistent but is still part of my daily life. In fact I write this from my side of the bed, covers thrown aside, fan droning.

Throwing Kitties

Wow. Consistency is just harder and harder. I have been ridiculously sidetracked by many things but currently by Facebook. My sixteen year old says that Facebook is social networking for old people. He of course would not be caught dead. Its Myspace, texting or nothing. What I find fascinating, among many things, is how I can be affected emotionally by a visit to Facebook. I find myself oddly envious of the apparent vivacious sociability of others; by what appears to be their terrifically busy lives filled up with friends, people. Sometimes I can feel weird, as if my life isn’t also full of people? And I really believe the vivacious social life to be primarily conducted on the Facebook site, not in real life. When thought of in that way, who cares. And really, who cares what other people’s social lives are? It has nothing to do with mine. Other times, however, I feel oddly happy, so far two friends from past times have found me and I really like that. One I don’t much care about other than its nice to be “thought of”. The other I am genuinely pleased to reconnect with. That, I think is the true value of the social network. I am mystified by most of the gimmicks of what you can “give” “send” or otherwise do on the site. Except my very favorite which is “throw a kitty”. You collect the kitties that are thrown to you and you get access to more. As I am a cat lover, I find this “throwing” of kitties pretty amusing. What I don’t want is to start thinking that the number of kitties I have on my profile is how I should judge my worth in the world. It is easy to disappear down a facebook hole and not really come out.