From Zach I received a fabulous three-quarters length black and white wool coat, a pour shield for my Kitchen-aid (there was a casualty earlier this Christmas season, my half-cup plastic measuring cup, as I tried to pour flour into the mixer without turning it off and without scattering flour all over the kitchen), a brown and green tea set, some speakers for my ipod, and a couple of DVDs.
He also got me a subscription to the Atlantic and Harper's, so I'll be up to date on the forefront of the literary and political worlds. My Uncle Mark got me a subscription to the New Yorker so I can pine for the days of 24-hour falafel.
From my parents I received a Christmas quilt tied by my mother. Zach received a tool set to augment his tool collection. They also gave us a cookbook, The Art of Simple Food, and the Stephen Colbert I Am America book.
Millie gave me pet toys, which Huck loooooves. Sarah gave me a melange of girly knickknacks. Laura gave me a dog training booklet and a Great Speeches CD. And Charlie gave me Glenn Beck's An Inconvenient Book.
I gave Zach an Ipod, some clothes, and a Keyboard instruction DVD. I gave my mom a down pillow and throw. I gave my dad and Laura moisture-wick, name-brand long-sleeved running shirts (I gave Laura earrings for her birthday). I gave Sarah Philosophy Cinnamon Buns shower gel and fancy lip gloss. I gave Millie a nice sweater from Express. I gave Charlie a funky American Apparel t-shirt that says "The Second Amendment" with a sketch of a guy with bear arms. I gave Melissa a set of white onesies, some cute embroidery patterns, t-shirt backing paper, and some embroidery floss.
Besides that, I'm currently following the wise Kindergarten maxim: If you can't say anything nice don't say anything at all.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
At the Animal Shelter
Yoda, my cat, seems to have ticked off the neighbors a few houses down, who called animal control to pick him up yesterday afternoon. Part of me thinks that this is my comeuppance for not knowing my neighbors. Anyway, I would have been in utter panic in last night's fifteen degree weather had I not seen the Animal Control truck when I brought the dog home from his walk. I thought to myself, wouldn't it be funny if they were picking up Yoda, but I figured that he was pretty much uncatchable--he's not the nicest most domesticated of all house cats. This morning I called three minutes after the shelter opened and verified that, indeed, they had my cat, and shortly thereafter I set off with my carrier and some kitty treats.
I never fancied myself an animal lover. Even when we adopted Huck last month, I didn't think of myself as an animal lover. We got Yoda because Zach likes cats, and we got Huck because I like dogs. Turns out, I love Yoda, though. I think my inlaws are a little afraid to catsit him when we go out of town for fear of what I'd do if something happened to him. And I love Huck, even though he is not always obedient and even though he likes to chase Yoda. Sometimes I feel like I live in a zoo. I still don't feel like an animal person, but I love my animals.
Perhaps that is why the animal shelter was so disturbing. It is a clean, new looking, institutional building. The greeting room, termed "customer service" was a mini version of the DMV. There were four people in front of me in line, two service windows, and it still took twenty minutes to get to the front. And then I had to verify that the cat was mine and that he had had his rabies vaccinations. And then I had to wait another twenty minutes for them to bring the cat out.
I watched as a woman in her early twenties with a young daughter and a large, young black lab struggled to get in the door as the lab pulled every which way. She tried to push him into a sitting position and then just held the leash firmly so the dog couldn't explore the scraggly Christmas tree. "We took him to obedience school when he was a puppy but he just never learned," she told the woman at the counter. I thought of Huck, who is only obedient sometimes and who is so much more work than I ever could have imagined. I can tell you right now, though, Huck will never ever go to the animal shelter.
Another short man in sweatpants with greying hair surrendered two dogs. "They are very good dogs, very obedient. Good around kids, but not cats, never cats. They sit and stay and they're very good. You call me if you can't adopt them. I don't want them I don't want them put to sleep." "We have your phone number, sir, so we'll call if we can't find adopt them out. With this description, we have a rescue organization that will likely take custody."
And then, the man in his early forties with a dirty, orange keeshond or chow chow, Nika. He wore a University of Utah hat over his greying hair and he scowled, though I couldn't tell if he was angry or choking back tears. His dog staying close by him, occasionally sitting, much more subdued than the hyper lab. "He's find around me but I can't trust him around other people. He's bit other animals." I couldn't hear what the woman at the counter replied. "He bit a goat, do I need to put that?" And then "I'm not going to sign this form. It says here at the bottom I don't have to sign it, and I'm not going to sign it." He wouldn't leave Nika behind the window with the office workers, "I wouldn't trust her back there." He dragged her to the door that led to the euthanasia area. A well-coiffed, overly made up cat-adopter (who I don't like because she wouldn't accept my offer of a whiskas treat for her new fluffy kitten) asked "Are you giving that dog up?" "No, I'm putting him to sleep," he spat. He took the leash and the collar from the dog and the animal worker attached another one. "Would you like to come back and hold her?" the worker asked. "No" he responded and walked away. Nika gazed at him as he left. And I started crying.
I never fancied myself an animal lover. Even when we adopted Huck last month, I didn't think of myself as an animal lover. We got Yoda because Zach likes cats, and we got Huck because I like dogs. Turns out, I love Yoda, though. I think my inlaws are a little afraid to catsit him when we go out of town for fear of what I'd do if something happened to him. And I love Huck, even though he is not always obedient and even though he likes to chase Yoda. Sometimes I feel like I live in a zoo. I still don't feel like an animal person, but I love my animals.
Perhaps that is why the animal shelter was so disturbing. It is a clean, new looking, institutional building. The greeting room, termed "customer service" was a mini version of the DMV. There were four people in front of me in line, two service windows, and it still took twenty minutes to get to the front. And then I had to verify that the cat was mine and that he had had his rabies vaccinations. And then I had to wait another twenty minutes for them to bring the cat out.
I watched as a woman in her early twenties with a young daughter and a large, young black lab struggled to get in the door as the lab pulled every which way. She tried to push him into a sitting position and then just held the leash firmly so the dog couldn't explore the scraggly Christmas tree. "We took him to obedience school when he was a puppy but he just never learned," she told the woman at the counter. I thought of Huck, who is only obedient sometimes and who is so much more work than I ever could have imagined. I can tell you right now, though, Huck will never ever go to the animal shelter.
Another short man in sweatpants with greying hair surrendered two dogs. "They are very good dogs, very obedient. Good around kids, but not cats, never cats. They sit and stay and they're very good. You call me if you can't adopt them. I don't want them I don't want them put to sleep." "We have your phone number, sir, so we'll call if we can't find adopt them out. With this description, we have a rescue organization that will likely take custody."
And then, the man in his early forties with a dirty, orange keeshond or chow chow, Nika. He wore a University of Utah hat over his greying hair and he scowled, though I couldn't tell if he was angry or choking back tears. His dog staying close by him, occasionally sitting, much more subdued than the hyper lab. "He's find around me but I can't trust him around other people. He's bit other animals." I couldn't hear what the woman at the counter replied. "He bit a goat, do I need to put that?" And then "I'm not going to sign this form. It says here at the bottom I don't have to sign it, and I'm not going to sign it." He wouldn't leave Nika behind the window with the office workers, "I wouldn't trust her back there." He dragged her to the door that led to the euthanasia area. A well-coiffed, overly made up cat-adopter (who I don't like because she wouldn't accept my offer of a whiskas treat for her new fluffy kitten) asked "Are you giving that dog up?" "No, I'm putting him to sleep," he spat. He took the leash and the collar from the dog and the animal worker attached another one. "Would you like to come back and hold her?" the worker asked. "No" he responded and walked away. Nika gazed at him as he left. And I started crying.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Insanity
My life right now is too hectic to be enjoyed. I'm paying the price for procrastination and puppy-time over the past month. My schedule for the first three weeks of December looks like this:
December 6 Oral argument at the Ninth Circuit in behalf of a civilly committed sex offender who was given an antiandrogen that caused severe osteoporosis. For this I have a practice oral argument today at 5, Monday morning, and all day Wednesday. Also, unlike my tax grade, this impacts someone besides myself.
December 10 Tax final. I haven't read for tax since September. The class is four credits. Kill me now.
December 13 State and Local Government final. Ditto on the reading, though I have actually paid attention in this class so I feel a little better about it. Also, it is multiple choice. Which, I guess, who knows.
December 18 Ethics final. Also multiple choice. Also I have a twelve-page "reflection" about "professionalism" in the legal world due this day.
December 12 now, but will be moved to the 21, my final opinion for Supreme Court is due. It's the Guantanamo detainee cases. One of the main questions is whether the writ of habeas corpus would have extended to the detainees in 1789. Fun.
As I write this I've been up already for an hour and a half feeding, bathrooming, and playing with my dog. There is at least six inches of snow on the ground and its falling fast. It feels like a day for drinking hot cocoa and reading mystery novels. I hope it snows like this in about three weeks.
December 6 Oral argument at the Ninth Circuit in behalf of a civilly committed sex offender who was given an antiandrogen that caused severe osteoporosis. For this I have a practice oral argument today at 5, Monday morning, and all day Wednesday. Also, unlike my tax grade, this impacts someone besides myself.
December 10 Tax final. I haven't read for tax since September. The class is four credits. Kill me now.
December 13 State and Local Government final. Ditto on the reading, though I have actually paid attention in this class so I feel a little better about it. Also, it is multiple choice. Which, I guess, who knows.
December 18 Ethics final. Also multiple choice. Also I have a twelve-page "reflection" about "professionalism" in the legal world due this day.
December 12 now, but will be moved to the 21, my final opinion for Supreme Court is due. It's the Guantanamo detainee cases. One of the main questions is whether the writ of habeas corpus would have extended to the detainees in 1789. Fun.
As I write this I've been up already for an hour and a half feeding, bathrooming, and playing with my dog. There is at least six inches of snow on the ground and its falling fast. It feels like a day for drinking hot cocoa and reading mystery novels. I hope it snows like this in about three weeks.
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