Pet Parent be Like
“Toxic Masculinity” ≠ “Masculinity is toxic”
Per the current trend, people are taking an idea and getting SUPER offended by it. Instead of stopping, doing some thinking, maybe *gasp, some introspection, they just fire off all these lies about the idea to get others also against it, when in reality, the idea would actually help a lot of people.
The idea of “toxic masculinity” seems to really peeve a lot of people off and start clamoring that it means being “manly” is bad and all men should start acting feminine. This is not at all what that phrase means. That would be akin to saying “apple seeds contain cyanide” means “you shouldn’t eat apples”. “Toxic masculinity” is just taking masculinity too far and pushing it onto others, causing a toxic atmosphere that leads to more problems in society as well as personal lives.
So, masculinity is OKAY. If you’re into that. Lifting weights, going hunting, playing sports, wearing camo, shooting guns. wanting to be protective of women and children, whatever else is considered masculine – these are all perfectly acceptable and even desirable by a certain population. If you’re into it, and it’s not hurting others, GREAT! NO one is telling men they shouldn’t be who they want to be. If being a stereotypical manly man is your thing, I love it. People in general love it. You be you!
What’s NOT okay is the idea that NOT being perfectly masculine is a bad thing and something to be shamed. What’s toxic is shaming men or boys who, for instance, take dance, like pink, cook, do laundry, help take care of their own kids (without calling it babysitting), or worst of all, show emotion. This leads to de-humanizing of people and the trapped feeling men can get from not being able to be themselves for fear of being shamed, bullied, or even physically beaten.
One of the things I see on a daily basis is men in the Euthanasia room, trying their hardest to hold back emotion and tears when they have to say goodbye to their best friend of 15 years. Why should men feel the need to hide that? Why shouldn’t they be allowed to cry without feeling shame? Having an old man, from the “Greatest generation” apologize and look ashamed of himself because he lets his face break for even a moment while trying to remain calm and collected and say goodbye to his best old buddy is heart wrenching.
Or my dad, who was always telling us that we didn’t need a therapist and/or anti-depressants/anxiety meds – we just needed to get out and exercise or eat right or find a hobby. Then, just a few months ago, he called me up to tell me about how he finally went and saw a doctor about anxiety and got on some medication and – can you imagine? ! – it helped SO much! He couldn’t believe the difference it could make!
Could you imagine a world where men were allowed to show emotion? Be themselves? Not have to fit into a tiny mold of what men are SUPPOSED to be? Could you imagine how much less violence there might be in the world? How much less pent up frustration? Can you see the irony in women being more brave to break out of their traditional roles than men are? This is why we give men who show something outside the traditional range of manliness so much attention – it’s called positive reinforcement. It’s not that being “manly” is bad, it’s just that being yourself should be celebrated and people who are being themselves are being SO brave!
So, you want to be a manly man? Have golden calf testicles hanging off your ridiculously large truck that you drive like someone released a bee hive in your cab, and then, inevitably complain about gas prices? Great! Good for you! No one is telling you that’s bad (except, maybe, the environmentalists). But you should also not feel like you have to hold back your tears as you pay the $150 to drive that truck to town and back. Nor should you ruin your son’s life by making him feel like “men don’t cry” and turn him into a domestic violence psychopath. Emotions are okay. Men doing the dishes and being a caretaker is OKAY.
Be a man! Be brave! Be you! Just don’t be a dick. That’s all.
Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy – A Silent Ambush Killer of Young Cats: A Warning and Words of Advice.
As some of you may know, we recently lost our sweet little 2 yo kitty named Toad. This heart-wrenching loss had my 10yo daughter in tears for weeks. She still draws pictures of him and talks about him like an old friend that she misses. Toad was a very social cat who loved my daughter, hung out in her room, and slept with her every night. One morning, Tony came downstairs and announced that Toad was no longer using his back legs. We rushed him to work, gave him all the pain medications, and determined his back legs would likely never work again and would start to die due to lack of blood flow – they were cold and hard and PAINFUL! This led to a very tearful euthanasia where I had to watch my daughter clutch his sedated (due to the level of pain he was in) body against her chest and sob into his soft fur. And then I gave the final injection.
While Toad probably would have never lived a long kitty life, we possibly could have kept him going much longer than we did had we known what was coming. Toad died of a young cat disease known as “Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy” (HCM) where the heart muscle becomes TOO thick and, therefore very little blood is pumped each time and the increased turbulence increases the risk for clots. Toad’s presentation is the most common way to discover this disease in young cats – a fatal blood clot to the aorta at the point where it splits off into the hind legs. The clots can partially or fully block blood flow to the back legs. In Toad’s case, the legs were cold and hard, therefore, no blood was getting to them.
So, how can you prevent this tragedy from happening to your family?
- Have your new cat/kitten evaluated by a vet for a heart murmur. (Toad never had one, but it’s good to know anyway)
- Have your new feline check for a chemical that is released when the heart is stressed. It’s a test called proBNP.
- If 1 and 2 are normal, GREAT! Keep an eye on your kitty.
- If #1 is not normal, but #2 is normal, keep an eye on your kitty and watch for early signs of heart disease like when they’re completely asleep (and not twitching with a dream or something) count the number of times they breathe in a minute – it should be less than 30 breaths per minute. If it’s more, contact your vet.
- If #2 is not normal, think about having an echocardiogram (ultrasound of the heart) or a work up at a cardiologist to determine what the next step is and whether your kitty needs to be on medication.
If you’re rescuing a cat from the shelter or from the streets, there’s not a lot you can do to prevent this condition other than making sure to feed it a commercial cat diet that’s balanced for cats and has the amino acids required to keep the heart healthy – but if genetics are in play, the diet won’t really change the outcome. If you’re purchasing a cat breed (specifically Ragdoll and Maine Coon), make sure you find out if the breed is predisposed to heart conditions and then grill the snot out of the breeder and make sure the parents and grandparents have been tested for heart conditions before purchasing. After this whole ordeal, we got his sister, Popcorn (pictured with him as a kitten) and she’s all okay with no signs of heart disease. Now, I’m trying to encourage people to avoid this horribly traumatic experience themselves by recommending testing for young cats.
After his death, I performed a necropsy to confirm my suspicions and give myself solace for putting him down (sometimes, even when you’re sure, you still doubt “Did I just kill my daughter’s cat for the wrong reason???”). Sure, enough, I found a very large clot wedged in the descending aorta along with branches of the clot going into both femoral arteries, effectively shutting off all blood supply to both legs. I also found his heart, which was greatly enlarged with the left ventricle (the one that makes the big pump to the whole body) grossly thickened to the point where almost no blood could be pumped each time. The only thing I can even remotely think of as far as symptoms that I missed was that he was a very active kitten and eventually got to be a sleepy/cuddly cat while his sister continued her tortuous reign on the outdoor small rodent population. I thought this was just his personality, but, looking back, he was probably tired all the time due to lack of oxygen/blood to his body.
***** Warning! Pictures of Toad’s necropsy (autopsy) to follow ******
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#grosspictures coming!
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STOP SCROLLING IF YOU ARE EASILY GROSSED OUT
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Seriously! STOP! Blood! Gore!
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But it’s a REALLY good visual of how everything failed for poor Toad
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Fat Cats Cost Fat Stacks
I’m not good at estimating things, but I’d say about 90% of the pets I see are overweight to obese. Owners don’t like to hear this, though. If they could just have a big eyed, furry thing to pet and feed forever, that would be their ideal life. The animal wants the food, it makes them “happy” and if baby is happy, owner is happy, but the animal doesn’t seem to really ENJOY the food typically and just wolfs it down and looks for more like “I can’t believe that’s all you’re going to give me” and the big eyes instill guilt, we feed, feel happy, then guilt for not giving more, and so the cycle continues. Unfortunately as they get older, or even some at a much younger age, the extra weight can cause so many more problems.
People tend to judge how much their pet should weigh based on their breed (or perceived breed) and their parents’ sizes. I often hear “well, how big should he be for his breed?” or “well, his daddy was HUGE – with a head *THIS* big and was 195lb!!” There are a few problems with this theory. 1: every breed has a wide range of what can be normal (height, thickness, etc) , 2: every individual gets different genetics and may not end up as large as their parents (or could be larger) – My parents were both 5’11” and I ended up 5’8″. 3: just because the parent was 195lb, that doesn’t tell me if that parent was an ideal body condition and not also obese.
In general, you should be able to feel your pet’s ribs, but not see them. So, especially with those super fluffy critters, you’ll have to put your hands on them to decide if they’re too fat/skinny. Have them stand up, then run your fingers down their ribs. You should be able to easily feel the ribs without pressing, but not feel any depressions between them, like the back of your hand. If you have to push through flesh to feel the bones like you would on your wrist, your pet needs to lose weight. If you can feel spaces between their ribs like your fingers, your pet needs to gain weight.
Here’s an equation to figure out how much your pet needs to eat in a day (not just their pet food, but you have to include EVERY calorie that goes in their mouths – food dropped, just a little snack while cooking, kids feeding them, treats every time they go outside and use the bathroom, the cat’s food when you leave it out for them to steal, etc, etc). Remember, a 100 calorie snack for an adult human could be 50% of a small animal’s daily needs. So, even just a little bite for you could be enormous for our pets. And don’t be fooled by the pet who is ALWAYS hungry. Unlike us, they have no concept of “being healthy” other than “EAT WHEN YOU CAN BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN THERE WILL BE FOOD AGAIN!!!!” Remember, a dog/cat has about the intelligence of a three year old child, so we have to be their brains and think of their health for them.
Daily calorie needs for your pet = 70 x (Ideal body weight in kg)^0.75
*********DOG FOOD BAGS LIE!!!!! DON’T FOLLOW THOSE INSTRUCTIONS!!!!!**************
** weight in lb/2.2 = weight in kg
** Ideal weight = body weight – (body weight x %overweight)
- with % overweight = anywhere from 10-40% overweight (ask your vet)
- So, 42lb beagle that is OBESE is about 40% over weight, so ideal body weight = 42 – (42×0.4) = 25.2lb
- So, a 42lb beagle that should only weight 25lbs, 25/2.2 = 11.4kg
- calories = 70 x (11.4kg)^0.75 = 70(6.2) = 434 calories per day
- To make it a little easier for you, here’s a chart (This is for ADULT animals, not growing/lactating/pregnant – Also, this is IDEAL weight, not their current weight if they’re obese)
- Talk to your vet to get your pet’s ideal weight
Our pets do not live very long (10-15 years for most dogs; 15-20 years for most cats), so giving them the healthiest lifestyle keeps them happier for those years. Arthritis and diabetes are common sequelae to being overweight as well and breathing difficulty in the short squat dogs like French and English bulldogs. Osteoarthritis leads to many many euthanasias and dogs that are overweight are GOING to have more mobility issues and will start getting them much earlier in their lives. Mobility issue leads to being unable to get up from laying down, walk over hard floors, navigate stairs – making owners have to carry dogs to go outside to the bathroom (think apartment living), bed sores, other injuries from slipping and falling, infections around skin folds around rectum, penis, vulva. Diabetes treatment requires twice daily insulin injections, multiple vet visits to get insulin regulated, regimented note taking and nursing care, and, of course, more money. (Just think of all the money you could have saved by NOT feeding your dog all those extra treats AND diabetes/arthritis therapy!)
Cats that are overweight will start with arthritis, but you may not see it (see my last blog on pet pain) until you start noticing your cat urinating or defecating outside the litterbox. Inappropriate urinating and defecating is one of the leading causes of cat euthanasia – and it all could just be because it hurts to walk into the litterbox or get into position to poop. Obese cats will also develop diabetes ($$$$), stop being able to groom themselves, leading to mats in the hair, grumpy cats, and infections around their rear from feces and urine sitting on their skin.
The most loving and money saving thing you can do for your pets is to stay ahead of the problems – flea/tick/heartworm preventative, vaccines, and keeping them at a healthy weight are the absolute minimum for giving your pet the healthiest and longest life you can. You may feel like they love you more if you feed them, but they don’t really associate food with love. Over feeding them can border on cruelty and abuse. You are their caretaker. You control what they eat – 100% – you can show your love more than anything in the world by keeping them at a healthy weight. You can do this!
His leg fell off, but I don’t think he’s in PAIN! W.T.F.
I recently had a case where an animal had all the skin stripped off it’s paws which were now red, bleeding, and swollen. I comforted the owner after they asked me if I was going to close the wounds and informed them we would be unable to close due to all the flesh being torn from the pads, but not to worry, we would get the animal on antibiotics and pain meds until it heals. The owner looked at me like I was crazy and said “well, I don’t think he’s in any pain, except where your assistant took his temperature in his butt”.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time I’ve had an owner deny their pets’ pain. It wasn’t even, likely, the first time that day. I have made a Tiktok video about it:
So, let’s talk about pain for a second. Animals are different than us. Not in that they don’t feel pain, but that they are NOT going to show pain like we will. We live in a society where 1. we expect a fix for every ailment we have thanks to modern medicine and 2. others in our circle will take care of us if we are out of commission. Animals, on the other hand are 1. Not going to ask for help because they don’t even know help is an option (my eye fell out? oh, well, guess we’ll try to eat and not die from it) and 2. are fighting for survival, or, at least feel like they are, even with us. House cats, believe it or not, are actually prey for many animals – large birds, foxes, coyotes, wolves, etc. but aren’t the easiest prey, so showing pain could mean being more likely hunted or targeted by those predators. Dogs, going back to pack mentality, may be taken out of the pack if they show pain or at least taken down on the totem pole of hierarchy. If you’ve ever had multiple dogs in a household and seen what happens when one cries out or whimpers and the other dogs run up on him, not to see if he’s okay, but to hover over him intimidatingly and possibly attack depending on the personality.
So, animals have good reasons NOT to show pain. They don’t know if they show pain, you will help them. They may be thinking we’ll get rid of them if they do or they might not get fed, or who knows what they’re thinking. Animals will also, notoriously, get 99% better when they go out in public or come to the vet. We see it all the time, animals who are reportedly dying at home, show up to the clinic, running around, wagging their tail. I don’t automatically think the owner was lying, I just think the adrenaline and survival skills of the animal has kicked in and they animal doesn’t want to show weakness. Just like me and you when you’re not feeling well, but good enough to go to work and you pretend to be peppy and spry around your co-workers or clients. Why? I’m not sure. Am I afraid someone will send me home?? Please! Am I afraid people won’t like me if I’m not 100%? Maybe. But we all do it, so why not expect animals to do the same thing?
So, here’s a list of signs that your animal is sick or in pain. Some will seem simple and straight forward, but I wouldn’t be making this list if people didn’t have a hard time seeing it.
- Not using a body part. Limping but not whining? Still in pain. Squinting, or closing the eye. I’ve seen dogs walk into the clinic, tail wagging, with the obviously fractured leg just dangling in the wind and STILL not vocalizing.
- Change in behavior. Suddenly avoiding you or other animals in the household, more fearful or aggressive, not wanting to eat, play, not jumping up when you’re about to go for a walk. Going in and out of the house or litterbox several times (could indicate diarrhea or urinary issues)
- Change in posture. Hunching, lowered ears, head, tail, curled up tight in a ball, not wanting to lay down, pacing, trying to lay, then pacing again. Standing with chest on the ground and butt in the air – typical of stomach pain.
- Panting, pacing, trembling, shaking, wide “whale eye” where you can see the whites of their eyes like they’re worried.
- Overgrooming/licking an area. This is super common with cats who will groom their under bellies bald if they have abdominal or urinary pain. Also, allergy areas of the paws, a wound, swelling. Sometimes they will even aggressively bite at and rip hair out of a body part that is hurting or irritating them.
- Teeth grinding or bruxism – this horrible sound from their mouth can indicate stomach pain.
- Drooling, eyes tearing, or liquid generally seeping out when or where it’s not supposed to.
- Swelling, bleeding, redness, hot to the touch (make sure to compare both sides of the body to make sure it’s not just you – you’d be surprised how many perfectly normal fat pads over the hips I’ve diagnosed when the owner only noticed one side being big)
I’m sure there’s more signs that I’m not thinking of right now, but this is a good list for now. Basically, animals don’t show pain very much – always playing it cool – and if you ever notice anything different, take them to the vet and have them evaluate them. I’d much rather tell you you’re crazy, the animal is fine than have you wait until the leg is rotted off before you decide it might need attention.
**Side note** – a lot of orthopedic pain issues can be helped by having your animal at the ideal body weight – unlike this obese clinic cat who is likely contributing to orthopedic/musculoskeletal pain of the small child trying to hold him. #weloveyoudan
Here’s a picture of a very healthy, non-painful dog – happily just finished a 4 mile mountain trail run. Head, ears, tail up, back straight, wide based stance.
Also, for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT give your animal human pain medication unless under the direction of a veterinarian. Most of them cause significant and immediate liver and/or kidney failure. This goes for you, too, Dr. Human Orthopedic surgeon, NO Celebrex! Even if all your human patients are on it! No!
Human vs. Veterinary medicine
Based on my own experiences with doctors and my journey to find my abdominal pain source. Everything said in this video has been said to me at appointments at some point.
New York, BaBY!
Last week, Tony and I made our first trip to New York EVER for his 40th birthday (and because my dad has been wanting us to go). I am a country girl, born and raised, with an unhealthy fear of anything new, unknown, or crowded. I don’t even like going to vet conferences where the parking is not an enormous football field-sized lot not to mention parking garages, traffic, subways, etc. New York City was about the last place on Earth I wanted to visit, but it still held a weird draw for me. I love so much that comes out of NYC – the art, the music, the entertainment, the people involved in all three, not to mention all the movies and shows centered around the city. So, I mentioned to my dad that I have a desire to go, but am terrified to go and just wish I had someone to show me around and he said “Me and Sheila (wife) like to go to NYC all the time, just come with us one time!” PERFECT!
The week before we were supposed to go to NYC, our bank account crashed. Between unexpected owed taxes (thanks National Healthcare for withholding information on subsidies when we signed up! Super fun!), a dying HVAC unit, animal control getting called on us for the pesky poodles escaping the underground fencing too many times and having to expedite a fence building, we were fresh out of money. Thank goodness the big ticket items had been paid ahead of time (flight and hotel), other costs, like the incredibly high prices of things like… well, EVERYTHING in NYC, would have to go on our credit card #cringe and we would certainly not be walking into a single store. So, creativity and lots of walking it is!
Day 1:
We landed and I giddily opened the window of the plane to look out over the wonder of a huge city I’ve only seen on TV only to see a blanket of white fog that only allowed me to see to the end of the runway. Oh well. We met up with my dad and Sheila in the airport (they had just arrived from Georgia) and shared an Uber together. I was so relieved to not have to experience the whole “call and Uber” and find where they were going to pick us up and not know if a tip was needed, etc – I really am a child when I step out of my comfort zone. They took us right to the front doors of our hotel and we stepped out into the rain and checked in. Then rode the elevator up to the 15th floor, opened the door to our luxury romantic getaway birthday celebration king suite only to be met with the smell that I can only compare to when you forget to take the garbage out before you go on vacation for a week. I looked at Tony with the stench face on and he just says “I think this is just how New York smells”.
You probably are thinking, just like my dad asked me later when we met for dinner – “well, did you go and ask for a room change?” The answer is, as a perfectly sensible human being: “No! That would have required me talking to a stranger… again. I’ll just live with it and hope it goes away, I mean I’ve had jobs where I literally slept on a blanket in a horse stall and showered in a public restroom.” We opened the windows, searched the room for a dead rat or a rotting apple under the bed, but found nothing. Eventually, we grew “nose-blind” to it, until we left and came back again.
After my initial meltdown that I was in a strange place, there were lots of people whom I was bothering just by being there, the rain, and a feeling of claustrophobia with all the buildings and just wanting a snack and coffee, we found a snack and coffee. Then, we met my dad for dinner and then went to the apartment they were renting for the trip and got to hear all about the finances required to live in Manhattan. This (very lavish) apartment was probably 1/2 the size of my house and they said easily a few $million$. THEN they told me that on top of the mortgage, you have to pay a monthly “building upkeep” fee of about $5000 – forever – even after you pay off your mortgage. Then we enjoyed the wondering of Crumbl Cookies – a huge cookie that was amazing! Highly recommend.
After a quick nap, we got all dolled up and went to check the first item off my list – go dancing at a club! It was Retro NYC and only played music from the 70s, 80s, and 90s, and only opened the doors at 10pm – hence the nap. I mean, my dad eats dinner at 5:30. This club wasn’t exactly what I had wanted to experience – the big giant clubs I’ve only seen in music videos where people are dancing in cages – it was quite tiny, maybe the size of my living room, but was SO much fun! I drank before we went so I wouldn’t have to spend a ton of money on alcohol and between that and my trying SO hard to embrace the my world, my rules thing I talked about in a previous blog, I literally danced like no one was watching (nobody here knew me anyway). We finally left around midnight (because we’re old) because the club was getting so crowded, you could barely move. And after we stepped out of that club and made the penny pinching decision to walk the 2.5 miles… at midnight… in downtown NYC, we learned a very valuable lesson about NYC = no matter how you feel, you PEE before you leave a place. Tony’s bladder decided it had worked too hard about 3 blocks away from the club – with only 30 more blocks to go and ZERO public restrooms in NYC, we started hoofing it to our hotel. I tried to talk him into going into the open McDonalds there, but he refused because you don’t go to McDonalds when visiting NYC. With his bladder on fire, he still made me stop at Radio City to get pictures. We considered running over to Central Park, but just knew a cop would pop out just in time, also we’ve seen enough Law and Order SVU we didn’t want to find a body.
Despite the streets of NYC being surprisingly empty at midnight on a Saturday night, one person surfaced just in time to see me holding Tony’s hand in support of his aching bladder and toss a snarky comment “how sweet!” which just made us laugh because of the one time 15 years ago a girl in a liquor store made fun of us for wearing striped sweaters together (which we then looked at each other, realized we matched and laughed). After lots of inspirational talking about getting through this and “just hold on!” and lots of sweating despite the wet 50 degrees that it was, we made it to our smelly hotel room, Tony made it to the bathroom, but just couldn’t make that 90degree turn to the toilet and released his bladder into the bathtub. Oh well.
Day 2:
We got up and I was ready to tackle the second thing on my NYC to-do list – get Bagels! We Yelp.com’d it and found a place called Zucker’s Bagels and we planned to pick up breakfast on the way to Central Park. We happily strolled down the sidewalk, watching all the different people as we went, just as happy as clams, then got yelled at when we arrived at the bagel shop. Now, I’m sure, if you’re used to NYC, it was just a polite greeting, but if you’re (me) from the south, I thought I might just melt on the sidewalk as someone in the bagel shop yelled at us to get out and not block the door. So, we waited like dejected dogs outside until enough people came out for us to stick our noses in and see if we got scolded again. We ordered our bagels and coffee, were promptly corrected not to order coffee here (like idiots), fearfully asked for coffee where we were told to and paid without any further abuse.
Bagels and coffees in hand, only a little emotionally worse for wear, we walked our happy selves down to Central Park. As we were coming up to it, I saw a very slight woman, looking worse for wear, holding one of those silver/metallic blankets around herself to keep warm and I thought “awe, she must be homeless”. Then, as we approached the entrance to the park, we noticed a LOT of people wearing those flashy blankets and figured out they were in the middle of the Shape+ women’s marathon. So we made our way inside the park (which is MUCH larger and convoluted than I ever imagined) to find a nice place to sit and eat our bagels. Unfortunately, due to NYC being the rainiest city we’d been too (and Seattle was the sunniest – at least the one week we were there), all the benches were wet and we didn’t think ahead. So, we walked until we were away from most of the crowd, and just like any other awkward couple, we found some benches right next to this very peaceful looking lady meditating, set our bagels down next to her and starting scarfing down.
Maybe it was the close proximity in an 800+ acre park or the smell of my smoked fish, wasabi, and everything bagel, but the sweet meditating lady got up and left quite quickly after we arrived. After we finished, we started walking around the park, avoiding getting run over by runners and cyclers everywhere. We got a few good pictures before the rain started up again and had to go back to the hotel, completely soaked, again. Let me tell, nothing smells better than a smelly room when most of your clothes are wet and you’ve added humidity to the ambiance.
After we returned to our smelly room and took a good nap, we decided to attend an open-mic women’s-only comedy club. This was AMAZING! Tony was the only man there, there were probably only like 30 people total and all of the comics were hilarious and it was neat to see people who were being so much braver than I was that day putting themselves up there for the first time ever in some cases.
We left and went to our reservation at a Thai restaurant. The seating was TIGHT. I was seated right next to another couple with just a piece of plexiglass between us. It was tight, but the food was SO good! Fried curry balls and fried tofu in peanut sauce was amazing! One thing we figured out in NYC was that making reservations at most restaurants was both easy and necessary. It was almost impossible to just walk up to a restaurant and get seating. But going onto my Yelp app, selecting a place, then just click the time you want to go and your party size and that’s it! No horrendous calling and TALKING to people!
Day 3:
We decided that with possibly the only sunny day here, we would make this our super touristy sight seeing day. But we started with the most unnecessary stress. When we woke up and my nose was burning from the rotten garbage smell, we decided that enough was enough… 1 hour before we had to meet my dad for a breakfast reservation that he’d had for literally, months. We ran downstairs, I fearfully told the front desk lady our conundrum, and despite my fears that she’d be like “Tough luck, STUPID. Hahahahahahahahahah! Also, you will now be billed double!!” she, instead said “Okay, would you like to change rooms? We’ll send a man up to help you move your bags in a few minutes.” So we ran back up to our room, threw everything into our bags and waited, nervously because we still had to walk 20 blocks to the restaurant. We waited, I paced, we waited, I paced, then when we only had 15 minutes, Tony ran back down to the front desk where the lady was just waiting on us with the new keys. I took the bags up to the new floor we’d be on, met Tony with the keys, we chunked our bags in our new (NOT smelly) room and dashed out the door. We walked as fast as we could, but were still 14 minutes late – getting there just within the 15 minutes over window. We were so happy to not lose our reservation in the extremely fancy little breakfast place as we were swapping the drenching sweat off our faces with the fine linen napkins and guzzling the water gracefully poured into stemmed glasses.
After an amazing breakfast of ridiculously thick French toast that was easily 45K calories, we parted from my dad and went strolling down 6th avenue, being as touristy as possible, taking all the pictures of the amazing buildings (though we would find a spot out of the way of foot traffic to take the pictures), passed by shops selling things I was afraid to look at for fear I would be charged a fee, bakeries with goods so amazing looking they could have come off the set of a movie, people of every shape, size, and color, speaking 10 different languages, and the smells!! Maybe it was because it had been raining for 2 days and all the organic material was rinsed and trapped in the cracks of the pavement and rotting, but NYC didn’t smell too good. I never in my life thought I would describe a smell as “burnt ice cream” but that’s the first thing that came to mind along with the odors of trash, flowering trees, occasionally fish, and the overpowering fragrances coming out of those expensive shops that made me a little nauseated.
I was so excited to see the Empire State Building, having done a project on it and it’s construction. I was scanning the skyline as we approached where it said it was on the map. I was sure I would be able to see it in all it’s glory from far away, just like you see in all the pictures. Then, we walked right past it. When we looked back and saw that we were right upon it, I was a little disappointed. There was a huge line to get into the building and since you had to pay to go up there and we had no money (or patience to stand in line, really), we took our pictures and then moved on. It was a pretty building though. We then made our way to The Highline.
The Highline was a really neat idea – they turned an old railroad into a walking path that is about 1-2 stories above ground and walks you through a couple of neighborhoods, apartment buildings, parks, and the entire way has been gardened to bring plant life and beauty to the area of the city. There are also some awesome architecture and art pieces showcased including a painting of Gandhi and Mother Teresa. It’s a nice little walk where you don’t have to worry about cars or bikes going about, but there were a LOT of people.
After our long walk to The Highline and along it, we made our way back to the building where we were going to see “The Daily Show” filmed!! I was so excited about this, having watched the show since high school and we were READY to get in line and wait to be let in. We walked by the place around 30 minutes before we were supposed to be there, and it was like a deserted island, maybe even a tumbleweed or two. So, we went to get a drink and sit in a local park to rest for a bit. We walked around what appeared to be a local school playground, looking nothing if not suspicious, then eventually went back to check on how the line was forming. But, to our dismay, nothing. Was this one of those secret entrance things where you had to have a special knock and a password? Was NYC playing a prank on just me and other suckers who thought they could dare be involved with something like this? Was this actually just “The Daily Show” warehouse and the studio is in New Jersey??? So, desperately, I looked at my phone where it SAID I had tickets and found out we weren’t supposed to arrive for another TWO HOURS. This is so me.
So, even though our feet hurt, we were tired from walking almost 10 miles already, we decided to go back to our hotel and re-group. So, back 20 blocks to our hotel, stopping at a little grocery store (which was likely the largest one in Manhattan) and buying some crap cookies compared to the Crumbl cookies and a jug of milk for a pre-gaming snack. I did a quick “whore bath” (a term I learned from a friend here in Virginia – where you just wash what people can see and smell – face and pits), changed clothes, put on even less comfortable shoes (because they went with the outfit), then marched the 20 blocks BACK to the studio where, thank goodness, people were starting to line up and there were people there to check us in WHEW!
So, we got in, were herded to the bathroom (because no peeing while taping), then herded to a waiting room, then into the studio. We were allowed to take pictures before it started, but had to put them away once it started. Then, a “warm-up” comedian came out to rile the crowd, picked on some crowd members, got us trained to laugh and clap, then, finally, we got to see Dulce
The show was amazing! Dulce was amazing, but the writers were all going on strike that day and so there would be no more shows for Dulce even though this was her first time hosting and we weren’t going to be able to see the other show we had signed up for (Late Night with Seth Meyers) – stupid writers wanting to get what they deserve!
Day 4:
The next day was back to rainy, but not as bad, so we went to get breakfast at a place that did not require reservations, was not nearly as expensive, did not have a super fancy atmosphere, but was just about as good of food. We went for another walk in Central Park as it wasn’t raining at that time. Then the rain came again. So, we saw this area where you could descend stairs and get under a bridge to get out of the rain for a second. In doing so, we discovered the most AMAZING area! My dad had told us when we got there that NYC was like no other place he’d been to in that you could just be wandering around and find the most amazing muscicians or performers just setting up in the middle of nowhere and he was right! We walked down some concrete stairs to this unassuming underpass situation and were greeted by a simply beautifully decorated area that felt like we had just stepped into the Systine Chapel in Italy. Columns, painted tiles, the ceiling was ornate (I don’t know all the proper terms for these things, but it was PURDY!). People were milling about, some, like us were looking for a way out of the rain, some were taking engagement/senior/prom/modeling pictures, but in the center of it all was a man just sitting on a fold out chair playing what I think was a mandolin. And he was GOOD. We went from being out in the dreary wet city and literally walked into what felt like a fantasy land (minus all the picture taking).
On our way out, we decided to use the restroom right outside this area (because never leave a public restroom without using it in NYC) and as I came out of the women’s room, Tony was looking sheepish. I asked him what was going on and he told me he was taking a picture of the scenery and then realized he had the camera pointed straight into the women’s restroom. So, we hurried out of that area and met my dad and Sheila to tour more of Central park before the rain started coming down even harder and we went back to the hotel room.
Later that afternoon, we went to meet my dad and Sheila for dinner at a Mexican restaurant and got to see a most pitiful site of a lady pushing a stroller with a toddler and begging a very tired looking (do they ever look spry?) Bassett hound named Sampson to get up off the very crowded sidewalk and keep walking. (Side note: Bassetts and bulldogs probably not a great pet to have to walk distance). Then we followed Sheila for 20ish blocks to see Rockefeller Center, a huge, beautiful cathedral (where you had to pay to pray), and then to BROADWAY, BABY!!! This was definitely on my major To Do list in coming to NYC. And! We got to see Moulin Rouge!!!! It was even more amazing than I anticipated! I expected it to have Broadway songs that were great, but that I wouldn’t recognize, like most musicals, but this was full of modern music and the DANCING!! I cannot express how visually astounding this show was! I even went home afterwards and stalked all the actors on Instagram! I was just so impressed that these people do this show EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. and sometimes twice on Wednesday or Sundays and still acted like it was their opening night with their energy and enthusiasm. As a vet, I get to do different things and new adventures every day and still have a bad attitude sometimes and drag my feet.
After the show, we walked to Time Square, saw all the amazing lights and commercials, got to see some performers, but were mostly just walking through. I was about full on my commotion scale as an extroverted introvert. We found a bar to finish the night in. I calculated that a bottle of sparkling wine has 6 glasses in it and it was $17/glass, therefore, we’d “save” money if we just bought a whole bottle ($69). Tony ordered and Old Fashioned and we got two orders of fries and the bill was $135! Anywho, a whole bottle, though more economical for the wallet, was expensive to my liver. We had a GREAT time talking and even worked out a few more kinks in our relationship issues, but my body eventually rejected the evening and Tony had to care for me (the best husband).
Day 5:
Thanks to Tony and my diligent “drink as much water as you can every time you wake up through the night” I wasn’t too sick the next morning and we sought out the same diner with the great food, no wait, and no one yelling at us to get out. Then, thanks to my brave husband, we tackled my next biggest NYC fear: the subway. Tony figured it all out on his phone while I was sleeping and it was really easier than I thought it would be. We got on our very first NY subway and started riding toward the Battery (where you can get on a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty – I didn’t know what it was called either).
On our second stop on the subway, a man jumps on the train with an accordion and started playing. He had his tip jar taped to the front of his accordion and seemed to be doing a pretty good job despite the jostling motions of the train. A very nice couple gave him $5 and it was all downhill from there. Once money was given, he played for another 30 seconds or so and then started his rant on how NYC was failing. According to this, what I can only imagine, very reputable economist, too many people are coming into NYC illegally and earning money illegally by not purchasing permits or paying taxes while raking in the profits of street performing. He then went on to let the poor couple, who has now been subjected to his rant for $5, know that HE was, in fact an illegal performer as he should not be allowed on the subway to perform for money. The poor couple then tried to get off at the next stop, but were followed by the accordion man. #lessonlearned
So, we got to the Battery, took pictures of the Statue of Liberty (didn’t get on the ferry because 1. sea sickness and 2. money) walked around, saw the financial district, the bull where there was a longer line to take pictures with the bull’s testicles than his head. Then we walked up the Brooklyn bridge which was really neat and crowded.
Then we went to the 911 memorial which was really impressive. It definitely brought back memories of when it happened. I was a senior in photography class and the teacher told us what was happening and that he wasn’t allowed to turn on the TV -but he did anyway. Seeing it on TV was horrifying, but when you’re actually there on the ground and just thinking about one of these behemoth buildings (not to mention two) coming down and ALL the people in and around it. And all the clean up for YEARS and all the tragedy and people… It’s just unfathomable. Of all things, I was brought to tears by the little survivor tree. It was the only living thing around the fallen building found after debris was cleared and was saved. You can still see where most of the branches were broken off and have grown new ones since.
After that, we got on the subway and went to see Little Island which is this ridiculously adorable little park that looks straight out of a Super Mario Bros. world.
Finally, we made our way back to the hotel via the subway, but had to get off 10 blocks early because my terrible motion sickness. That night was Tony’s birthday, we got pizza at a local shop, made our way back to Central park, sat in Strawberry Fields and listened to a lady playing Beatles songs. We walked a little more in Central park and ended our night early, got Tony’s favorite $5 cookie, Levain, and went back to the hotel. The next morning, I got up early, went to get bagels and coffee, then we shared another Uber with my dad and went back to the airport.
That was NYC!
A few impressions about NYC:
- The people are generally BEAUTIFUL – I have theories that A: in that section of the world, you have to have money to live there and can, therefore afford nice clothes, makeup, other healthy things to keep you looking nice B: The eclectic mix of races and shapes and sizes of people make a beautiful kaleidoscope – like a candy store for the eyes. And C: you can’t be lazy there, you have to walk almost everywhere which made most people pretty athletically built.
- As a southerner and country girl, I’ve always heard stuff about “city folk” being wimpy and not used to the outdoors. Go to any small town in a rain storm or cold weather and see cars dropping people off at the store front, people avoiding going out at all, letting their dogs out in the back yard to fend for themselves. People in NYC are outside whatever the weather. Street vendors just chilling out in the wind and rain, people still walking to work, taking their dogs out every time they have to go to the bathroom. There is zero change in the foot traffic weather it’s freezing, rainy, ice, snow, hot. NYC folk are tough. (AND, again, there are no public restrooms, so they have to have adapted to holding it).
- Living in NYC, at least Manhattan is beyond expensive. An apartment there costs a couple of $million to start, but with the building maintenance fees, you’re looking at around $10K per month. When I asked around about what vets make in the area, it was only $125K-250K. Being a DOCTOR, serving people who make more money than imaginable, you still wouldn’t be able to afford living there. You would have to commute from hours away just to make ends meet, and likely still get harassed about the cost of your services and your heartless ways. No, thanks.
- So, NY, you’re pretty cool and I’m not ready to say that I LOVE you, but I’ll text ya!
It’s too late, save yourself! #guns #whowillsaveyoursoul
This cute picture of a kitten holding on for dear life is the last cute picture you’ll see on this article. From here, I have posted screenshots of articles I found just this morning of injuries and tragic deaths related to guns. Please note that 90% of these happened within the last week. The others within the past 4 months.
Alright, you win. I will concede. You’re right. It’s not guns. And there’s nothing we can do about the number and concentration of guns in this country at this point. Guns are so inundated in our society, no amount of regulations or laws will help to decrease the violence. We have a mental health problem in this country and THAT is what is causing all this violence that guns have just gotten sucked into. The mental health problem I’m talking about is fear. Fear in “the other” coming to take our families and our way of living. Fear of what we think we know as “the bad guy” as well as a mental reliance on the need to show power, and, I dare say, the lack of Faith in God to protect us and keep His will; instead taking other people’s lives flippantly for granted.
Since Obama was president.. oh, um… I don’t know, FIFTEEN years ago, I’ve been hearing nothing but “They’re gonna come take your guns” and people making and selling paraphernalia about the 2nd amendment “come and take it”. Yet no one has ever tried to take anyone’s guns. Not even tried. But the public is being sold this idea that at any minute, their 2nd amendment rights will be swept out from underneath them and it’s done what it was intended – it’s vastly increased gun sales and “big gun” has profited immensely off the fear they have sold. Everyone who’s anyone went out and bought guns because they were told they would soon not be able to. The gun folks created a false sense of urgency and need and, boy, did it ever work. People who had never considered buying guns went out and purchased and people with guns went out and bought more.
Then there’s the lie that a “bad guy” is going to come and take your pursuit of happiness – whether it’s your security, your family, or your possessions. With the media as we have it, with coverage of every minor crime, it seems like the world is a far more dangerous and scary place than “back in my day” when the news didn’t cover everything and many things were still legal – like beating your wife in public up until the 1970s – after that it was still okay as long as behind closed doors. Luckily, since 1990, crime has been slowly coming down. While I’m sure there are still situations where you need extra protection, having the ultimate death tool at your hand all the time is likely much more dangerous than not having a defensive weapon at all.
I’m scared of guns. I’ll admit it. To me, they are like having an open flame going at all times whenever you have one and someone innocent is MUCH more likely to get hurt or killed because of your owning one than an actual deserving bad guy. And when I say “an actual deserving bad guy” I mean someone who is actually going to hurt you or your family. I could tell you a dozen or more stories of my own family who have thought someone was breaking into their house only to find a son home late from college or just a drunk guy who came to the wrong house. If my uncle had a gun ready to go when he saw his large bulking son in the dark when he wasn’t expecting him, my cousin could have ended up dead. If they had shot the drunk man who was in the wrong house, sure it would have been okay by law, but still would have been murder for a mistake. Capital punishment for misdemeanor crime, or, if you’re a God fearing person, just plain murder.
Should we really be wielding a death weapon with little to no training on how to assess a dangerous situation? Just because you can go buy a gun by law doesn’t mean you are trained to determine the situation and the true “bad guy” if there even is one and thinking you are capable of that is a spit in the face to the hard working, constantly training officers who dedicate their lives and souls to this endeavor. I know someone who claimed they heard a noise outside their home and in true scary movie style, went out to investigate, but took a gun. Luckily nothing was found, but what if it had been someone out looking for a lost cat and you shot him? Or if it was just a raccoon and you got scared and shot it and the shot went into your neighbor’s house?
Are we so callous to other people’s lives that we’re willing to let them end just so we can wield a piece of metal? I’ve heard people say “oh, well, most gun deaths are suicide” – so their lives are not worth anything? It’s a very common self-preservation tactic to make someone else’s tragedy the victim’s fault. But, really, according to several segments in the Bible, we are all God’s children and how do you think He feels knowing that some of his children are dismissing the deaths of his other children. Guns make opportunities happen. Not only are they available for a person’s lowest moment and make a split decision much easier to act out – believe me, the idea of poisoning yourself or slitting your wrist is much more daunting than pulling a trigger – but a person who loses their temper can also lead to deaths – spousal disputes, neighbor disputes, road rage scenarios, family/sibling disputes, sports rivalries, the list goes on and on. Not to mention, unless you’re a world renown knife thrower, a gun can kill several more people in a matter of moments than any other *legal weapon. Yes, if you REALLY want to kill someone you will find a way, but guns make super light decisions or drunk/drugged up decisions lightening quick to change lives forever.
Yes, you absolutely have a right to own a gun, but you also have the obligation as a human being and a responsibility as a mortal weapon carrier for every life that is lost by one. As Ian Malcolm said (about dinosaurs, but it totally applies) “we spent so much time wondering if we could (“I have a RIGHT to own guns”) that we didn’t stop to think about if we should (all the accidental gun deaths).” Just because you have the right to do something doesn’t mean you have to. I have the RIGHT to say what I want, but that doesn’t mean I should, just because I have the RIGHT to drink alcohol doesn’t mean I need to become an alcoholic so the government doesn’t have control of me. There are so many thing we have the RIGHT to, but that doesn’t mean we should or have to go to the Nth degree.
If you own guns to be prepared for hunting, sport, or the government takeover, cool*. But, please lock them up to where NO one can break in to grab them. If someone breaks in and grabs one to kill someone, YES!, that death is on you. As a vet, we have access to very potent controlled drugs that we have to lock up. If we’re sloppy and leave it unlocked and someone steals our drugs and dies, we’re liable. That’s on us. There is no difference between a deadly weapon and a drug. The death is on YOU. Maybe not by law, but by conscience and God, (if you believe).
So let me address the side of the room who doesn’t believe in God: In my experience, people who don’t believe in God still have a very nice conscience, MANY times, nicer than those who are religious, so just be selfish for a minute and consider yourself and the effect killing someone would have on YOU. I have to deal with death on a daily basis at my job. I’ve had to grow a little callus to do all the euthanasias that are required and I claim that if they’re at the end of their life and suffering that I don’t feel bad, but in the dark of the night, when my mind is wandering, I think about how that animal was scared to be there and was afraid that I might kill them, and then I did. And that’s an animal that is literally on death’s door that I just gently nudged off the edge. If I were to kill a PERSON who just made a mistake or even had mal-intent I wouldn’t be able to sleep ever again (as I’m sure soldiers and police officers experience). I feel like some people just don’t consider that when they flippantly claim they would shoot and ask questions later.
If you do believe in God, and own guns to defend yourself, why do you lack faith? First of all, the ten commandments – the ultimate of Godly rules – states: “Thou shalt not kill.” Period. There is no asterisk beside it, there is no foot note. Jesus goes on to say that “murder comes from the heart”. So, if you purchase a gun with the intent to shoot someone that has offended you or even scares you, you have committed murder in your heart. There are SO many other not-as-deadly ways to defend yourself. Pray to God to keep you and your family safe, use mace, or pepper spray, call the police if there’s time, take a self defense class (support local business!), get a security system, or just have an escape route, or safe room, if someone breaks in, offer to help the bad guy carry the TV out, yell that you have a gun even if you don’t (shhhh! I won’t tell), get a BB gun or paint gun, etc. The list of things you can do BESIDES attempted murder is endless. **
*I think it’s cute you think you have a chance against a group who has access to technology like drone strikes and tanks and aerial defense. I’m not sure WHY you think the government would take over a country they already own, and the less people there are in the country, the less money they can collect, so killing taxpayers seems backwards.
**Now, I’m sure there are instances where killing someone is the only viable option and I know that God will forgive you/understand if you repent in your heart, but let’s try to not make it the FIRST option.
Now I’m just going to finish posting all the screenshots I took just this morning.
Life: Choose your own adventure
For the past couple of years, I have been plagued with horrible and recurrent dreams. Every night was either a repeat of the same theme with only slightly different scenarios, or the exact same scenario, but just a continuation of the storyline. For instance, I had a book report due on “War and Peace” due in a few days and I hadn’t even acquired the book yet and then the next night was the same book report due, but now it was in 1 day, and the next night it was due in an hour, and so forth. Other recurrences were having to pack to move or leave a vacation or dorm room and only having a few hours to have everything out of the house and cleaned up. These dreams HAUNTED me. Finally, one night in one of the dreams, I realized it was a dream and was able to control what I did in that virtual world and it was freeing!
Slowly, as I began to dream more where I knew it was a dream, I started to try to apply that to my “real” life – I mean, no, I didn’t try to fly or rob a bank or actually finish “War and Peace” (though I tried) or anything crazy like that. But, somehow, viewing the world as MY world, seeing people as playing roles in MY life, somewhat seeing the world as my own virtual reality with my perspective as the main component really helped me to take more control of my feelings and emotions concerning problems in my life and the world. I know this sounds crazy hokie and maybe a little egocentric, and I could totally see how a different personality embracing this view could be detrimental, but for me, it was enlightening and therapeutic.
For instance, I had to endure a child’s birthday party that my child was invited to. Something they don’t always tell you when you become a parent is that some birthday parties, especially when they’re young, you are expect to STAY for that party. Stay at a stranger’s party. With strangers. And their strange kids. Usually, at these parties, I stress and stress the whole time I’m huddling in a corner, trying to pay attention to smiling at people when they look my way or thinking of something to say to the people standing next to me. But this time, I decided this was my life in MY world. So, I sat myself down in a corner, per usual, and just played on my phone and didn’t care if anyone was looking at me and didn’t even attempt to make conversation. This may sound like an incredibly rude behavior, but it was 2 hours that my stomach wasn’t digesting itself with stress just so I could appear socially “normal”. It allowed me to actually relax and enjoy life instead of dreading it.
Obviously, you can’t have this attitude for everything, but you can utilize it to help you enjoy your life better. You would have to weigh the consequences of your decisions, but if it’s just something where you might offend strangers who will have no bearing on your life, go for it. I enjoy wearing very loud, colorful clothing, hair, sometimes makeup. I don’t look like a well put together 39 year old at all. Does it hurt me that some people think I’m weird? Nope. Does it make me happy to wear happy colors? YES! Does it make me a little secretly happy that people think I’m weird? Maybe a little.
If I say “no” to a favor someone is asking of me because agreeing to the favor could hurt me, my license, or my time with my family and it’s taking advantage of a relationship, does that make me a bad person? Maybe, to that person, but setting boundaries is the ultimate form of living your life to it’s fullest. I tend to want to get support from the masses for my boundary setting, but I’ve found that the more you do for people, the more they will expect and at some point, you just have to be that bitch and support yourself to keep yourself sane. I feel that I go above and beyond for friends, family, employers, and even strangers, so when I eventually have to say “no” I don’t feel as bad. Thankfully, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how to stand up for myself and have slowly felt less and less guilt for it.
Anyway, I’m not saying go out there and become a selfish jerk-wad, but take more risks, do more things you’ve always wanted, don’t feel guilty about keeping to yourself or being yourself. Sometimes, when I’m pondering what life is and God(s) and souls, I think about maybe my soul was up there wishing it could come down and experience life on earth – feel the breeze, smell the earth, experience joy and laughter and love – so, in this imaginary scenario, I begged God to make me a human and now I only have maybe 50-60 years max (and likely only 20-30 years of decent mobility) to do all the things I wanted so badly as a soul. So, it’s an old saying, but life IS short. We have a beautiful earth with all kinds of things to do and see and a HUGE spectrum of feelings to have and experience. Go out (or stay in) and love it!
