I haven't written anything about Asia lately.
It's not like she's gone anywhere — the dog, that is, not the continent. Or that we haven't every day been taking walks as usual, mornings and afternoons. We have to go earlier in the afternoon now because the sun is going down shortly after we eat supper. Of course, it also gets light later and later, but we always left so late that hasn't become a problem.
We went out this morning, and I don't remember any of the particulars except that I was reading THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES because that's the book for book club this month.
I take my Kindle, attaching earphones to it, then listening to it read to me as we walk along. I have it read to me as fast as it can. I can get some serious reading done that I wouldn't otherwise get done doing so.
It can be logistically a little more difficult. If interruptions come up — Asia is engaged by another dog, a cat, a teasing magpie or I run into someone who wants to talk — I simply pause the Kindle from its recitation of the text. If Asia dumps a load I pause the Kindle, disconnect it from the earphones, which I leave in my ears, and set the Kindle on the ground. I reach in my pocket, take out a plastic bag and use it to pick up the dump, take out another plastic bag and put the first inside to make carrying the first plastic bag with the load more palatable. Note that I said more palatable, not palatable. I guess I shouldn't use palatable at all. Anyway.
This evening we went a little bit earlier because I had a later agenda: watch the vice presidential debate. We went left, not right, out of the house, down past the Shepards (I'm not sure if that's correct spelling), around the bend, down past Thurstons, right at the corner where the Nelsons live, and down the way until the first cul-de-sac. We usually pass right by the cul-de-sac, but today Asia was quite insistent we turn up and walk through it. I was passive, since I was engaged in events happening on the moor in my book. On the way out of the cul-de-sac, we had to stop and talk to the Willies (again, spelling?), Scott, in particular. He's adding a doorway and stairs down to his basement to accommodate an apartment down there, to supplement their income. Things have become tight for them, he says. He made a remark about my pension from the government.
Further along, we ran into one of our typical stops, especially in good weather: the Wilsons. Mike and Judith were sitting, as usual, in front of the garage, but tonight Clyde Robbins was sitting there with them. They told me they had all been enjoying the week in Southern Utah, at Lake Powell.
Judith asked if I was going to watch the debates. I asked her what debates, joking. I said I like to watch the debates, but I like to watch the commentaries on the debates better.
Asia got tired of the discussion and pulled me on.
Before we knew it we were back home. Asia hadn't made a dump, and I hadn't had to use any plastic bags.
I'm not sure what my mother would think about the sacrifices I make, or rather, what my mothers would think.
So tonight we were almost home and this lady who jogs in the evening around the neighborhood with her husband riding bike by her side came right over to Asia to give the greyhound some attention and to get some.
That never happens to me. In my entire lifetime, I don't think it's ever happened.
It probably never happens to that guy on the bike either.
But it happens to Asia. Often. Not just with women, but with men, teenagers, children, and even toddlers. Even other dogs seem to like her. I've seen cats stop and stare, like they couldn't get their eyes full of her, mesmerized. The dog has that kind of charisma.
Is there any wonder why I am writing about her? I need to study her and glean from her some charm.
However, I'll never look as good, as lean, as sleek as she does. That isn't going to happen.
The feminine mystique. She has it.
I'm guessing my mother in heaven does too.
Speaking of walking Asia, how do you feel about walking around the neighborhood with a plastic bag full of dog doo doo? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you could just start out with the bag full, filled by somebody else and handed to you along with the leash and the dog. But seriously, what if you have to be the one gathering the droppings?
I don't imagine too many people would find it appealing or want to do it themselves.
In fact, now that I think of it, I think I'll have to start noticing better what the people out there walking their dogs are doing about that responsibility, whether they are picking up after their mutts or not. Obviously, the dogs aren't doing it. Well, the dogs are doing it, but they're not doing what we humans consider appropriate. It's not within their values.
I know some people who do pick up after their dogs. Chris and Tori always do so. But truthfully, I'm not sure what others do or don't do. I haven't watched closely enough to know. Should I? I'm pretty sure Robert doesn't; after all, he's got two medium-sized dogs he takes at once, often letting them go loose and then he gathers them in if he sees somebody coming who might distract his dogs. So logistically it probably would be very very difficult for him to do. Nonetheless, I still think he should.
I admit that bending over and using a plastic bag to gather the canine's deposit is quite disgusting but not beyond anyone's ability to do. Well, there are exceptions, I guess, people who are handicapped and can't bend over and pick it up. But, if my wife could do it, and did do it routinely when she walked Moochie a.k.a. Asia, there is no reason on earth why almost anyone else who can walk a dog couldn't do it. It's a matter of responsibility and sacrifice.
Enough of that.
Well, not quite. Stopping and gathering what is unseemly and distasteful must be some kind of a metaphor for what we have to do in life. Should there be a distinction made between individuals who take that degree of responsibility and those who do not? Should we individually ever make that kind of judgments about others? I definitely think we should judge ourselves in that regard and learn to do and commit to doing the responsible thing. As to judging others, I think, if it is in the collective interests of a community to do so, it would be appropriate to make an ordinance requiring the same. But long before we get to that point, people should take it upon themselves to do what is right. If enough people took it upon themselves to do what was right, ordinances and laws possibly would not be necessary.
But they don't. It is clearly the law to keep your dog controlled, in your yard fenced, or on a leash that provides adequate control. There are plenty of people around the neighborhood who don't.
How has this dynamic changed over time?
How does the dynamic of how women are treated in our society changed over time?
We have our differences, Asia and I.
But mostly we are on the same page. She's a little more casual and easy-going than I am. At least, that's the perception I have of other people's opinions of her and me. One thing, I think Asia is a Democrat. If she could talk, I'm pretty sure she'd say she was. If they'd let her vote, I'm pretty sure that's the platform she'd support. Candidates would benefit from her endorsement. She's attractive and sweet. She's kind except to cats and excitable dogs. I think she thinks they are Republicans.
As to differences between us, she often wants to go an alternative direction than I do. Usually, this involves preferences as to what to avoid or what to enjoy. I don't want to admit that she has higher standards than I. That's not the issue…or is it? Sometimes it has to do with just wanting to extend the walk, get some more exercise. It's usually her, not me, that wants to go on further, fanatic that she is. She has more stamina, more enthusiasm for walking or trotting, and more curiosity than I do.
The differences as to the direction we go don't usually involve politics. Asia wants to go further away from home; I want to stick close and return and go have a chocolate chip cookie. Asia wants to avoid a mean, barking dog or raucous equipment, so she says let's go this way; I want to check out the progress of carpenters working on a project at the neighborhood house or the new car so and so bought. Asia wants to check out the newest bitch; I don't think it's appropriate for a married man to do that.
So what happens if we have a difference of opinion? First of all, she lets me know. After all, I have a leash in my hand, and she knows how to use it. Sometimes all she has to do is tug and I relent. I try to be kind. Other times, I don't want to go the way she does; it's a matter of principle. It becomes a standoff. She tugs and pulls and sometimes whines, and I stand there, sometimes tugging back, sometimes pulling hard, and, frankly, sometimes whining myself. She usually gets her way, although she'd probably tell a different story.
She's a female, and I'm for feminine rights. I need to do better to support her. The patriarchy has too much power.
I like to watch Asia as we go, but there's only so much about her on walks after all this time that still holds my attention.
Quite frankly, I've mostly passed the point of needing to stare at her or at what she does while we go on our route. I can more or less zone out or concentrate on something else. I more or less let her choose the pace, with some restrictions. Obviously, if she wanted to run or sprint, that wouldn't work. I prevent that from happening. I have the leash and the weight advantage. We usually stroll, and I always stop for her to explore, unless there's another dog or a kitty. Anymore, if she wants to stop and visit with a human being, especially with children, if they're willing, I'll stop and try and comply with her desire and theirs.
But I usually have an earphone stuck in at least one of my ears, usually my right one, for what I want to concentrate on, given the circumstances of Asia exploring the smells, the bushes, the fire hydrants, the lamp posts, the flowers etc.
Most of the time, especially mornings, the earphone is hooked to a portable radio, a little Sony I've had for years. I purchased it originally because it used to play the audio from the local television stations when they were still analog. Those days are gone, however; that feature is its obsolete. More and more, I feel outmoded myself. But the device still plays the local radio stations, both AM and FM, and my favorite is NPR. The local NPR station is KUER, located at 90.1 FM. It's broadcast, as I understand it, from the University of Utah.
By the time I get going, Diane Rehm is usually on. Her program, of course, varies, sometimes with reviews of books, or guests who have written books on particular topics or who are featured in some magazine or newspaper. Experts in some field or another. Politics. Current events. Whatever. Diane is about as balanced as anyone I've ever heard on radio or seen on television. Often, she has someone fill in for her. She has problems with her voice. Anyway, KUER broadcasts two hours of her program. The next program in the morning is Radiowest, whose host is usually Doug Fabrizio.
All the while I'm listening, Asia has her routine. You can probably somewhat imagine it, although I'm not sure you can imagine how casual she is unless you know something about greyhounds. She isn't at all flighty, like some dogs are. In fact, she is pretty cool and collected. She does some sniffing but probably less than most dogs do. After all, she's not like a bloodhound. She is in the class of dogs known as sight hounds, so she's a looker, not a sniffer.
Today was Labor Day.
Asia and I labored on around the neighborhood again as usual.
Well, I guess it's more a labor for me than I think it is for Asia. After all, I don't go begging or reminding her we need to get going, but she does me.
Oh, she's nice enough about it, discreet and all. She doesn't do much yapping or jumping up on me or anything radical at all. In fact, she doesn't ever do any of that, except sometimes slightly when the feat is accomplished.
Her coaxing me to the deed is much more subtle. She'll come in if I'm sitting at the computer and nudge my hand with her snout. I'll scratch her head and pat her body. After I quit, she'll crouch down and wait. If nothing happens, that is, I don't start putting on my tennis shoes or start searching for the radio or iPod, after ten or fifteen minutes she'll get up and go away for a few minutes. Pout Pretty soon, though, she'll be back again to repeat her procedure. If she hears me get up or move about, she'll be there at my side immediately, checking out whether I'm putting on my shoes and getting my hat on or not.
Asia might be a dog, a sight hound, but she isn't stupid.
Nothing particularly out of the ordinary happened on today's walk except the fact that more people were out strolling with their dogs today. When a person with a dog approaches or overtakes us, I gather Asia's leash so that if she gets growly at the approaching dog, I can lift her off her feet and disorient her somewhat. That helps. It seems to be working. She's getting better, and on this Labor Day she wasn't growly to any of the approaching doggies. Or me.
One feminist I read today asked some interesting questions. She asked could she be LDS and think that women should be ordained. Could she be a Mormon and be disgusted that Joseph Smith pressured young girls and married women to marry him to receive their exaltations? Could she be LDS and actively embrace LGBT sisters and brothers? Could she be Mormon and blatantly disagree with decisions made by male leaders? Could she be LDS if she thought the LDS God didn't consider her equal, although she might be important?
These are some of the questions I might want to address in my upcoming work.
I admit I don't always pay strict attention to Asia when I walk her. Oh, I keep her securely on her leash and make sure she can't get out of her harness and all that, but I don't watch her constantly. Why?
Parts of Asia's activities aren't that interesting at all, and some can be said to be downright disgusting.
However, I can't responsibly ignore the most disgusting of them because I have to collect the results, solid and firm or as runny as syrup. I carry my collections of her excretions — a little euphemism is probably necessary – until I find a garbage can to deposit them in. That's why Thursdays, the day you put the garbage can out in our neighborhood, and Fridays, the day that the garbage collectors actually come and dump the garbage cans, have advantages for me because there are plenty of depositories on those particular days. On other days, I just look for the neighborhood's neglected green garbage cans along the route, which have been left out. You know, people go on vacations, forget to bring them in, and ignore them. Or they choose to fill them with their trash at the curb and avoid all the hassle of the bringing in the can and taking out the trash. Absent these left behinds, I carry what I collect until I get home and then make my deposit in my own green can.
There are some days when I don't make any collections. Asia is, if you must know, pretty regular, but like most of us she has her problematic days. Some days her output has succeeded the three bags I take with me. It isn't a matter of the bags being full or anything. It has to do with logistics, but I won't call upon you to use your imagination to fill in the blanks. Let's just move on. There have been a few days when I couldn't make collections because I forgot to bring what I needed to make the collection with.
Anyway, too much information. Simply, I don't always pay strict attention to Asia. Every girl needs her privacy.
There are risks to ignoring her however. We can be walking along and she might see a cat I haven't seen at all. If there is any slack in the leash, I can be in trouble, because a former racetrack greyhound, like Moochie — did I mention that that is her nickname — can accelerate amazingly fast, and my hand is attached to the other end of her leash. It can be extremely painful and I can be pulled right off my feet. Ask my joints in the arm holding the leash, if you don't believe me about the pain. No wonder my left shoulder grinds and I have to grit my teeth and suffering when I move it.
Anyway, it was Sunday today, and we made our usual two trips, the first a little after 9 AM this morning and then the other one this evening a little after 7 PM. Things went all right; there were no surprises today. In fact, today there were two kitties, one in the morning and one in the evening, that were quite close to us, one huddled in the gutter and the other crouching in a driveway, that I saw but that Asia missed. So I guess there was some surprise. Anyway don't ask me how that happened. Sometimes Asia can sense a kitty without ever seeing it, so it's all quite a mystery.
Of course, in the morning today, before church, I took my Kindle with me to read my bom33 lesson from Julie, which she posts almost every week on the Times and Seasons blog. The way this works is that I get myself all set up with earphones in my ears, the earphone cord threaded through the neck of my shirt with the connection hanging out the bottom of my shirt. This is after I have stuffed my pockets with the necessary plastic bags. I then put the harness on Asia and put my hand in the end of the leash that I hold onto. I then grab my Kindle, open the door and go out and down the stairs, following the dog. Then we pause. Or rather, I pause and Asia tries to pull me along. I win.
I then stick the end of the earphone cord into the Kindle, opened the Kindle's cover, open the file I need — in this case my bom33 lesson — and press the necessary keys on the keyboard of the Kindle to have the text read so I can hear it in the headphones. And off we go. In this manner, I was prepared in Sunday school. This evening, after all the folderol, I listened to music.
A friend from the neighborhood wants to walk with us so she can tell me her theory about blacks and the priesthood. I told her I was anxious to hear her theory. Of course, blacks and the priesthood is a resolved dilemma. Questions I now contemplate involve things like LGBT rights and the patriarchy.
