Friday, June 14, 2013

howl to the pack

when I first met her she was enjoying a ride in a car, sitting proud and happy in the passenger seat… she always loved to go for a drive in the car.

howl in gluttony - howl in lust - howl in celebration

in friendship and trust and love and loss - I will miss you every day, for the rest of my life cheyenne.





Tuesday, June 11, 2013

when theres a deal on steaks, you grab it!






it seems like I waited all day for an up moment from cheyenne… and when she's up and happy, there's not much better. what a pleasant and kind friend.

I made liver for her. before I cooked the liver I gave her some raw, as well as the blood the liver was packed in… she scarfed it up but not before giving me her skeptical look like, what's the hook, is this really ok. I so love that she is such a thinker, so smart.. a skeptic after my own heart.

made me think of the time she STOLE eight pounds of steak from our kitchen table, this was maybe 8 years ago… I had purchased a mega load of beef, it was a great deal and, when theres a deal on steaks, you grab it! I had this beef thought out and deeply planed, some would be froze, we'd grill some, take the left overs and use them for fajitas and so on… I had just spiced them and went to my office to consult ye'old internet on freezing to avoid freezer burn and other tips to prep our meals and meat for the next couple of weeks. I was at my desk all of what seemed like 30 seconds and asked amy if cheyenne was with her, in her office, she said "yes" and then, "no, I guess not". I jumped and moved like a fat man who was about to loose his next two weeks of decent meals and, sure as shit, the pooch had gotten to the steaks… within what seemed like ONE MINUTE, eight pounds of steak were gone, as was the pooch… the plate was still there, no trail of steak juice, they were just gone… steam shot out of my ears and I went on the hunt to find cheyenne… when I found her, she was in the furthest part of the basement, under a shelf and far out of my reach… I couldn't reach her with a broom handle, nothing… I demanded she face the music and she did eventually slither out of that corner.

I wasn't sure exactly what I was going to do, but I knew it wasn't good… my early training as an abusive asshole came into play and, as I yelled and screamed and chased cheyenne up the stairs, amy later told me she was sure murder was on my mind… especially after I herded cheyenne into the bathroom and lifted her into the tub… amy was right behind me and ready to jump in the line of fire… I was so fucking steamed I wanted to pummel the pooch, I was so close, I was yelling and screaming and then, out of nowhere I turned the shower on and yelled, "YOU DON'T LIKE SHOWERS - DO YOU!!!" WELL I DON'T LIKE MY MEAT STOLEN"!!!!!!! I looked at amy and told her something HAD to be done, she must be punished, this was a clear crossing of the line… a total betrayal!!! amy looked at me and said, "shane, she's a dog, that's what they do". oh man, I must have turned purple - I stormed out of the bathroom muttering "she's a dog, that's what they do" - "she's a dog, that's what they do"

indeed, that's what she does and that's what I do and that's what we all do… later that night amy explained to me that dogs have the maturity level of an eight year old and I need to try to treat her as a child.

it was an extreme moment in our relationship, but it was one where I gained respect for cheyennes wild, her individual, her animal, her place, and all animals place in the world, equal with human-kind, we're all just trying to get along and when theres a deal on steaks, you grab it!

we'll be feeding cheyenne liver and chicken and burgers and bacon until she'll eat no more.


Monday, June 10, 2013

a hero like cheyenne...



today I can't help but think of how strong cheyenne is and has been, how heroic she is.

I remember when we first started taking her into our life, she was basically abandoned, more than once, by my ex-younger brother, boy, that story is a heartbreaker that I'll save for another day, today I will recount one of the first times I took her out when we started to take her in…

we lived on the south side of chicago and in a ruff and tuff neighborhood called canary-ville… we lived right across from the stockyards uptown sinclair once wrote of, it was an area that was comfortable with brutality… and with these kinds of urban hoods comes roving packs of dogs, wild alley dogs on the hunt for food and in total survival mode… so, I'm taking cheyenne out, a lot later than I should be and I notice a pac of dogs rounding the corner… 4-5 dogs, three of which are huge rottwiler-ish dogs… and they growl and start to aggress… cheyenne immediately goes low, snake low, and as these dog show their teeth, she moves fast and low as a snake towards each of them individually… the aggressive dogs start to retreat, though still growling… but cheyenne keeps moving at them, like I've said, quick as a snake, never letting any of them get behind her and, all at once, the pack took off down the alley, the pooch then bolted back to my side and we quickly went inside.

I couldn't believe my eyes, but it was real… she had pushed off a pack of wild, south side of chicago, alley dogs. I was so amazed I remember telling someone the next day, that someone asked me if cheyenne had ever shown her teeth or growled, I said no and they told me, usually, the dog who shows it's teeth is the dog that loses the fight… not sure how true that is, but it seemed somewhat logical.

today, as my pal lays on the kitchen floor and I can't get her to wag, even after singing to her, which always works, I know our time together is coming to an end… I know I must be strong and brave and do what's best for her, rather than myself...
I refuse to be weak in the face of strength. I refuse to let a hero like cheyenne go out  surrounded by selfish, spineless, lack of action.

I've seen too long to take their dog in for the final vet visit due to their own need to keep a friend in their life who is in obvious pain… I remember on our road trip, we visited a home that had a dog in the middle of the floor, balled up, skin and bones, stinky as it pissed itself, not eating much, trick fed and being medicated… the dog was in obvious pain, deep pain, not able to move and the dogs friend just couldn't bring himself to take him to the vet, told us as much and I couldn't help but think, how crule, how weak and how unrealistic… in the wild how would this turn out? would the animal be eaten or just starve itself to death?

I don't know, but I do know I have to ready myself for that moment, it's coming, and I feel it's coming soon and I can not be weak, not until after, then I'll wilt.

you know, I still have some hope she'll have another summer of fun with us, we've seen cheyenne creep towards death more than once, we've seen her sick and saved her and she's pulled away from death more than once, she surprises me all the time, I guess her always surprising me is one of the things I so love and will miss… hell, I'm not sure a day has gone by until recent that she hasn't surprised me.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

even in her decline she is considerate and caring



toady was a good day, cheyenne and myself were able to take a nap together. she's a funny one and has never liked to be touched or held, she still has and has retained a bit of wild animal, even when she submits to instructions she's not ok with, she'll give me/us a look like, I'm only doing this due to the threat of pain or discipline. the nap was wonderful, for me.

I also understand that because of her pain and illness she needs to feel comfort and is submitting to her pain and letting me hold her… the other night I was trying to silently weep when cheyenne laid near me and laid her head on my arm… and even in her decline she is considerate and caring and tried to give comfort, and she succeeded in that moment… we pressed our heads together and read each others mind/minds. I feel very luck to be able to communicate with her like this, lucky she gifted me the knowledge of listening with my mind.

this afternoon she seems to be having issues standing, hasn't eaten yet and seems to be worried about going outside due to the three steps leading to the back yard.

and for a moment last night we all had fun, we laughed at larry david and hung out like old times… her ups and downs are becoming more frequent.
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over 20 years of refusing the invites of the educated, celebrity and ruling classes, preferring instead the excitement of upper low class, poverty, petty crime and violence.

It's not the wine and cheese I hate, it's the boring, void of anything lives the rich and privileged scurry thru like the walking dead on meth - most of the rich think their cultured simply by consuming - culture can't be bought, it must be lived.

I was truly meant to live on the side of a hill, growing my own tomatoes, basil and garlic in peace with my soul mate and dog.

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