Tuesday, February 27, 2007
You can mark my words something's about to break
I am an animal person. As is my sister and two brothers. My sister has the tiniest dog imaginable- she is half rat terrier and half yorkie terrier. When my dad first met Katy the Dog, he immediately claimed that she belonged in The Ugliest Dog Hall of Fame. I covered her ears to protect her delicate sensibilities, lest she up her efforts in covering my sister's entire house in dog poop. I found her adorable, and spent as much time as possible with her curled up in my lap, or licking my face. My two brothers also have dogs. All within the lab family, mixed with other adorable dogs.
We all have a voice that we talk to dogs in. A Dog-Talking Voice.
On Saturday, I settled myself into the subway for what would end up being the longest and most painful subway ride of my life, as I ventured out to East New York to volunteer at an animal shelter, where I would spend my day walking dogs.
My first dog was an enormous pit bull, complete with enough drool to give me a shower every time he shook his head. And he was having some digestive issues. Within 100 feet of the door of the shelter, he had diarrhea twice. And in New York, you gotta pick that shit up. It was.... unpleasant. He was sweet though, and absolutely starved for affection. If I had let him, he would have licked me to death, I think. I ran him around the designated route once, and then walked him two more times. And he still had enough energy to be fighting so hard against the leash that he was practically choking himself.
When my arm couldn't handle being pulled out of it's socket anymore, I went in and held the kittens, wishing I could take every single one of them home.
These are the moments when my self-esteem will be repaired.
Today's Title from: Nothing Left to Lose by Mat Kearney
We all have a voice that we talk to dogs in. A Dog-Talking Voice.
On Saturday, I settled myself into the subway for what would end up being the longest and most painful subway ride of my life, as I ventured out to East New York to volunteer at an animal shelter, where I would spend my day walking dogs.
My first dog was an enormous pit bull, complete with enough drool to give me a shower every time he shook his head. And he was having some digestive issues. Within 100 feet of the door of the shelter, he had diarrhea twice. And in New York, you gotta pick that shit up. It was.... unpleasant. He was sweet though, and absolutely starved for affection. If I had let him, he would have licked me to death, I think. I ran him around the designated route once, and then walked him two more times. And he still had enough energy to be fighting so hard against the leash that he was practically choking himself.
When my arm couldn't handle being pulled out of it's socket anymore, I went in and held the kittens, wishing I could take every single one of them home.
These are the moments when my self-esteem will be repaired.
Today's Title from: Nothing Left to Lose by Mat Kearney
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