Aromatherapy massages. Filet mignon dinners. Spa pedicures.
Lately, it seems that some pampered pooches live better than I do.
Until recently I was nothing more than a callous cat lover, indifferent to the ways of the pooch.
Then I moved next to Max. A ten-year old blonde golden retriever, Max is effectively my neighbor's dog, but when I take him on walks around the neighborhood I often pretend he's mine. As passersby stop to "ooh" and "ahh" over him, I smile that smug smile of ownership and make sly comments like "You're such a flirt, Max." I'm attributing my arrested appreciation for dogs to my inability to accept the untraditional treatments currently available for canines. I know there are dogs currently battling depression with Prozac and other dogs on a regimen of alternative therapies, but I've had a tough time accepting it as reality.
Interests: Anything with an ING:
dancing, biking, listening, talking, writing, reading,
watching, eating, drinking, running, thinking, working, dreaming,
surrendering, laughing, smiling, acting, traveling, singing, surfing,
driving, shopping, thanking, observing, welcoming, connecting,
loving, learning, sharing, practicing, asking.
Inspiration: Books: Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke/
Music: Linkin Park and The Cure/
People: My mother and all of those that have come before me that have fought their
own battles and didn't give up/
Places: Carl Schurz Park, New York, NY/
Movies: In Search of a Midnight Kiss, Stealing Beauty, Beautiful Girls, When A Man Loves a Woman, In America, Magdelene Sisters, The Notebook, Run Fat Boy Run/
Things: Causes worth fighting for: Lupus and other auto-immune disorders, Organ Donation and impoverished and at-risk youth.