Thursday, March 7, 2013

Hops in the Right Direction: It's Normal. Or Not, But That Doesn't Make It Abnormal--Just Confusing.

My dad and I talk dogs a lot.  He and his dog, Linka, are constantly training for the rally obediance trials they do, and of course Prada and I are always working toward new body confidence goals.  Needless to say, we never run out of things to talk about, and it's great to have someone to bounce ideas off of.

That's one of the best things about having a dog--I immediately have something in common with any other dog owner I meet.

And of course there's the pleasure and satisfaction anyone who has adopted a dog has.

But having a special needs dog changes things.  Not only do I have something to talk about with any other dog lover--which, as far as I'm concerned, is anyone worth talking to--I also have had a whole new world opened up to me.


That sounds way too sappy, even for me.

How about this?

You know, having a tripod, is like, cool and stuff, because I never really thought before about how, like, it would make me a nicer, more compassionate person.  Dude.

(Okay, let's pretend I never wrote that.  That's atrocious.)

In all seriousness, though, having a "different" pet has made me re-evaluate the importance, even the necessity, of being physically normal.  Normal is what is.  My normal, and my normal with Prada, is different than other people's normal.  That would still be the case if she had four legs.  Or if she were the size of a Pyrenees.  Or if she were blind, or petrified of squirrels.

So, I figure that makes Prada no less not-normal than any other dog.  And maybe, by extension (it's a stretch, I know), that makes me no less not-normal than any other person.


  1. I have a Pyrenees (coincidentally, the size of a Pyrenees). He drools everywhere, has hip problems in both back legs, wa-woos at 3am at leaves blowing through the backyard (THEY'RE ATTACKING!!).

    He's a totally normal. :) One of my main dog-person-philosophies is that dogs don't do normal/not normal. Living in the present is hard: they're the best example of it.

  2. Great observations, Dana.

    I am always intrigued by the fact that each dog has a distinct, individual personality. (That word seems ironic here--should I call it a caninality?). On meeting a dog for the first time, you can observe some aspects of its personality very quickly, and the more time you spend together, the better you and the dog get to know each other. Before long, you know its likes, dislikes, insecurities, favorite toys and games... even its moods. In fact, you even learn to communicate effectively with each other. I enjoy seeing this happen, in myself and other dog people.

    Oh, also, based on that one paragraph, I think the more you work with Prada, the more, like, vapid you become--you know, like kind of airheaded and stuff.

    1. Exactly! Every dog has some quirk or another to make it weird and wonderful.

      And, you know, sounding vapid can be a very useful tool to have in one's arsenal...