Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2012 19:05:26 -0700
From: Pete McDonald <bajabudfan@hotmail.com>
Subject: TIME-TO-SEE-22-

TIME-TO-SEE-22

Hugo rolled out of bed first, and this was a Sunday!  I was vaguely aware
that he was not in bed, but yesterday had been more exhausting than I
realized; so I was ready to lie there indefinitely.

I faded in and out of consciousness. On one fading in, I smelled the most
wonderful odor coming from the kitchen.  It had to be eggs and onions and
some kind of potatoes against a background of coffee aroma and toast.

Was he going to tantalize me with the scent, or would he eventually come in
person to invite me to his breakfast fiesta?

Lying there in utter bliss, I noticed some noise and commotion way in the
distance, and some boyish voices saying indistinguishable things.  Then
there was a loud slam that shook the walls- WHAM!- that I realized must be
the door from the kitchen directly out into the backyard.

It grew quiet for a time.  I relaxed again taking notice of my growing
preoccupation with the odors from the kitchen.  Hugo appeared in the
doorway to our bedroom, quietly, a huge man tiptoeing on little cat
feet. He came over and sat on the bed.

I squirmed around and turned to look up at him, and was delighted to see
him poised to plant a kiss on my neck...

I reached over, grabbed him, and became the attacker before he realized he
was being "had!"  I planted a big noisy, wet kiss on HIS neck, which I
enjoyed doing if only to see him sputter and mount his defenses to fight me
off, and keep me from doing more damage.  I reached down and squeezed his
penis... (So how's THAT for a surprise, Mr. Ramirez, I thought.)

He laughed and grabbed me with full force and strength and picked me up out
of the bed, threw me over his shoulder, and headed out to the kitchen.

We had no more than rounded the corner to enter the kitchen than the back
door flew open and our two foot soldiers stomped in, both explaining what
they'd discovered, both talking at the same time, not giving any thought to
how anyone was going to understand who was saying what.

"That stuff out there in the yard LOOKS LIKE grass, but it's not!" Jilder
announced making it clear that he, for one, was NOT fooled!

"Yeah!" Nicky agreed. "It looks pretty, but it isn't soft like real
grass. Uh?"

"I think it's fake grass!" Jilder opined.

"Me too!" Nicky agreed... "Why do we have fake grass?" he asked me.

I felt the need to defend myself and the fake grass; so I said, "Well,
guys, I thought you might be serious about getting a dog (or dogs), and I
wanted us to have a place that you could play with them and exercise them
without getting all muddy.

But if you went around to the side yard, you'd noticed that there's plenty
of real grass there.  And the trees and shrubs and flowers are all real
everywhere; so maybe the little bit of fake grass will work out... At least
I hope it does," I offered.

"Well, in that case," Jilder back-peddled, "Maybe it'll be OK."  "But can a
dog pee on it?  Or poo on it?" he inquired, our trial attorney was back on
the job...

"Of course," I explained. "There's just plain dirt underneath the fake
grass (which, by the way is called Astroturf-- like the football players
use in the big stadiums).  The pee goes right through to the dirt and then
sinks in and goes away.  You'll have to gather up the poop though.  But you
could use one of those pooper scoopers, and put the poop in a baggie, and
then throw it in one of the big, green trash barrels.

"That sounds easy," Nicky picked up on the merit of this new state of
technology. "But we don't have a dog." And he looked at Jilder, as if to
say, ("Dare we press for a dog so soon after we won the Battle of the
PSPs?)

"Yeah! We're going to have to look into that, won't we?" Jilder considered
out loud.

"At the moment, would you guys consider sitting down with Hugo and me for a
sampling of his wonderful-smelling breakfast?" I said, trying to deal with
first things first.

"Yeah!" Nicky responded immediately.  "It smells really good."  And he
headed to the breakfast nook and slipped around the booth to a seat without
needing any encouragement from us or coordination with Jilder, on whom the
terrific breakfast scent was not lost either.

Jilder scurried right behind Nicky saying, "Maybe we can talk about what we
have to do to get a dog while we eat breakfast??" Is this guy ever a
planner, schemer, mover and shaker?

"That's a good idea," I agreed, willing to say almost anything to get them
both to the table at the same time.  Hugo was being very patient not having
any idea what we were talking about, except that he did pick up on the word
"dog."  I refused to bark to demonstrate to Hugo the subject of our
conversation. He could wait for me to get a pad and pen...

Hugo had even prepared pancakes that were piled up twenty-deep on a platter
at one end of the table.  There must have been a dozen eggs cooked and
piled on one another, and hash brown potatoes in heaps in a big, pink
serving bowl.  He had two pitchers: one with lemonade and the other with
orange juice.  The toaster kept popping up more toast, and I enjoyed the
smell of fresh coffee from the coffee maker across the kitchen.  We could
have invited in the neighborhood with no food supply problems at all...

Hugo wrote on his pad and passed it to the boys.  "Now do you think you
really want a dog-- or two?" He asked, not fooling around...

Both boys shook their heads up and down vigorously in the affirmative
adding "yeah! sure" in the process.

Hugo pressed on with his reality check.  "You know that dogs have to eat,
and GUESS WHO WOULD HAVE TO FEED THEM EVERY DAY AND GIVE THEM WATER??????"

He was not in the mood to deal with this issue delicately....  "NOT ME!" he
added, underlining it three times.

Both boys looked a each other with expressions that indicated the feeding
thing was a "new consideration!"

"Well, we could take turns," Jilder offered... (Here we go again with our
attorney on retainer in negotiations.)

Hugo wrote back, "You don't think every OTHER day would be any easier, do
you???? You could NEVER take a vacation without getting someone else to
feed them for you... AND DON'T LOOK AT ME," Hugo finished up throwing both
the pen and the pad at them...

Jilder threw out a feeler, "Maybe Kevin wouldn't mind doing it once in a
while." Then he looked at me expecting me to rescue him...

I said out loud, "Don't think I'm going to do my work and your work too!
If you want the enjoyment of dogs, you have to be willing to care for them.
And Hugo forgot to mention that they drink water all the time, like two or
three times a day.  And they have to go outside to pee or poop every 4-5
hours, unless they are left outside to play.  Dogs are a lot of work.  They
aren't for kids.  They're for grown up people.  You better think about
whether you're ready for grown-up responsibility before you decide on
getting a dog."

We were merciless.  These kids were getting a double dose of reality--up
front.  And coming from Hugo, here was the message with no sugar
coating. Hugo had dealt with the realities of life directly and long enough
that he wouldn't tolerate a lot of bullshit boy-jive.

"Ok. Ok.  Maybe Nicky and I have to talk about this some before we can get
one.  But would you mind if maybe we went shopping around to see what kind
of dogs there are to get?" Jilder said, planning for a rejoinder at a later
time and keeping his options open.

"I wouldn't mind driving out to the animal shelter or to a breeder to see
if there is anything else we need to think about.  But you better check it
out with Hugo too," I suggested to them.

At that, the boys went into a huddle, and a few minutes and lots of serious
interaction later, they reached for Hugo's pad and pen.  Nicky began
writing to Hugo, "Would you mind going with me and Jilder to the animal
shelter to see what kind of dogs they have?  We wouldn't be getting one.
We'd just be looking."  And he politely passed the pad to Hugo.

After a quick reading, Hugo shook his head 'yes' as he wrote, "I wouldn't
mind visiting the shelter.  And you could ask the workers at the shelter
what you'd have to do to take care of a dog.  They can tell you best,
because they do it everyday."

Hugo was pragmatic and soundly realistic, a man of my own spirit.  Can you
believe that I turned out to have fallen in love with a man that I discover
I respect roundly and love profoundly.

Both boys read Hugo's reply and respectfully told him "Thank You" two or
three times actually, as that's the way their minds work... if one
heart-felt thank you was good, then three must be three times better.

"Okay, guys, but we've got to finish up here with breakfast, and then maybe
you can help us clean up this kitchen?" I suggested.

"Sure," and with that they both started shuttling dishes to the sink and
surrounding counter with little thought to what might need to go where....

OMG, I thought, their "help" will likely end up being more work than
help...

"Ohhhhh, noooo."  NOBODY told ME that I ought to visit the hospital BEFORE
I decided whether I wanted to take home two boys... Nobody carefully
pointed out to ME that they'd have to be fed every day or be taken to pee
every time we went shopping, or hustled away from dangerous situations, or
that there would be NO DAYS OFF! I don't understand why life is so unfair??

HUGO NEVER TOLD ME!

Oh, well...


*****

Eventually we ended up in the car moving swiftly down the freeway looking
for the Caldara Exit.

Hugo was carrying a map that I'd printed from Google maps.  He'd make a
noise when I had to do something. I'd steal a glance and maneuver the turn
as best I could... Hugo was pretty good at letting me know well in advance
before I was going to have to do something.

"There's Caldara," the boys yelled.

"Okay.  Hold on." And I accelerated to move over to the far right hand
lane... Traffic wasn't too heavy; so I got over in plenty of time to make
the exit.

"Right or Left," I shouted to the boys immediately after we were on the
egress road.  They punched Hugo in the shoulder and he held the map up so I
could read it.. "RIGHT!"  The car leaned smoothly to the right, "There we
are..." and we were safely heading north on Caldara Boulevard.

"THERE IT IS!" both boys yelled at once.  At which alarm I careened
smoothly into a gravel driveway and parking lot and came to a halt in front
of a very long, single-story building decked with a sign printed in large
block letters: County Animal Shelter, 1515 Caldara Boulevard.

I had barely come to a stop and cut the engine than both rear seatbelts
popped and out both rear doors went the boys.

"Hold on!" I yelled.  "Wait for us!"  My shouts did appear to stop them in
their tracks, but left them still so eager to get moving again that I
almost felt guilty at the frustration I was causing.

Hugo and I caught up with them, and then I said, "Okay. Lead on." And we
followed as the boys ran ahead and entered the shelter before we'd even
gotten to the front steps.

Inside, all four of us stood there looking around wondering what we were
supposed to do next.

A young woman in jeans and a blue sweater came up to us, "Can I help you?"
she inquired.

"Yes." I said. "We've come to find out what kinds of dogs you might have
for adoption right now.  We'd need to know how much they cost and what fees
you charge for shots and whatever is required."

"Oh, sure.  I'd love to show you around.  We've got lots of new animals
right now.  With so many people unable to care for their pets because of
the recession, we have an unusually large and varied population.  Would you
follow me?" And she walked away toward a pair of double doors, one of which
she held open allowing us all to pass.

I pushed Hugo just ahead of me and just following the boys. I wanted to be
able to grab him if he blundered into something that might best be left
alone.

Now on the inside of that long building we found what seemed like an
endless number of cages on both sides of an equally long aisle.  The place
was filled with yelping, barking, jumping, scratching, pacing, sitting,
sleeping dogs of every conceivable size and description.  Suddenly Nicky's
hair didn't seem bazaar at all... He was just one of the gang.

Oh, gosh, they were ALL cute.  Oh, NO... I'm turning out to be putty in the
presence of these incredibly cute, cuddly, funny looking creatures.

I CANNOT afford to betray my reaction in front of you-know-who!  Hugo
looked at me and pointed to a cage containing a black haired non-descript
mutt with more fur than sasquatch himself could have had.  He was jumping
up with his paws on the wire cage-front trying to get our attention.  Hugo
went over to him and put two fingers between the chain link fencing,
scratching him on the nose.  The dog licked Hugo's hand and jumped around
like he was in heaven...

Ooooohhh! No. I then told myself, "WE CANNOT BRING HOME 4 DOGS! NO.  WE
CANNOT AFFORD TO FEED THAT MANY DOGS!"  AAWWW! but aren't they
cute.... EVERY FUCKING ONE OF THEM!!!!

The lady answered questions for the boys and allowed them to put their
fingers through the cage wiring to pet several of them.

She explained, "See this little one here? He's been quite and sitting in
the corner of his cage because he's a new arrival, and he's frightened of
all the noise and the new setting.  He's trying to hide.  After a few days
most of them will become a little bolder.  But, some, however, never get
over their fear."

"Just like people," I thought...

And if you can imagine, there were four of these remarkably long aisles
with cages lining both sides of the aisle.  Really, there was an endless
selection of animals.  Whatever may appeal to you was most certainly there.
And the boys were attracted to every other one they saw.

I'm afraid we had inadvertently sent them into pet-land-overload.  There
was no way that they were going to be able to decide in one pass of that
menagerie.  Oh, well, in a way, that has bought us some time.  They will
need to think about what they really want.

"Here's what I suggest, guys," I said.  "Here's a pad.  How about you
listing the cage numbers of 3 or 4 dogs that you really like.  Then you can
take their numbers with you and talk about them at home... (Most animals
were provided with "head shots"-- if you can imagine -- simple photos that
people could take with them, or you could even look on the internet and
find the same pictures, to help you decide which animal you'd like to
adopt."

"Oh, yeah, Kevin, that'd be good," Nicky said. "Yeah!  I wanna go back and
get a picture of one of the dogs we saw when we first got in here..."
Jilder said.

"Well, that's okay," I replied.  "There's no rush."

I directed my question to the young lady who was so generously accompanying
us on our tour. "Are potential customers allowed to circulate among the
cages without an employee chaperone?" I asked.

"Of course.  When you think that you have a lot of your questions answered,
just feel free to go back and look at any of the dogs that you'd like," she
answered.

"What is the cost of adoption," I asked.

"Well, it depends on the animal.  Some are highly place-able; so their
adoptions are more expensive, like $80.  But most are in the $30 - $40
range.  And if an animal has been here for a long time without being
adopted, and he's not very desirable (so then very close to euthanasia),
his price drops to a very low number: like $10," she said.

"Oh, shit," I thought.  "Even here the life and death of these loveable
creatures are subject to pressures of the human economy.  Just what I need:
MORE INJUSTICE TO PUT ME IN PAIN. (Sigh!)..."

"There was a dollar figure discretely penciled on a little slip of paper in
one corner of each cage.  I took one look at the most adorable,
undistinguished, ordinary little mutt with THE most forlorn eyes and a $10
tag tucked in the corner of his cage.  I was ready to sit down and
cry..... HOWEVER, I was supposed to be the adult here!  Fuck!!!!

I asked our guide, "What sort of sleeping arrangements would these animals
need?  We just live in your normal two-story, multi-bedroom house, with a
garage and backyard.  What do you think?" I asked.

"Well, sir, different people feel comfortable with different arrangements.
Some prefer to allow the animals to sleep in the garage, which is just fine
if it is properly ventilated and dry and they have comfortable materials--
like an old quilt or such-- to sleep with."

I asked her, "What are your thoughts about any of these animals sleeping
with the boys-- like in their beds?" (I was so incredibly dumb in these
matters.  I never had a pet as a child... It just all seemed like a lot of
work suddenly... And I wouldn't want the boys to catch anything from the
animals, given that they were just a week or so out of the operating room!)

"Well, sir, again that's a matter of preference... Some parents have no
difficulty with that setup at all.  Others run their houses differently.
Are you thinking your boys will want to have the dogs sleep with them?" she
asked...

"Oh, God, I haven't the foggiest..." I answered honestly.  "They both just
got out of the hospital, and so I really have to think about infection for
a while...  but... YEAH... I think they'd want to try having the dogs sleep
with them..."

"All of our animals are healthy, have received their shots, been kept in
quarantine for rabies, and de-wormed; so they are extremely healthy.  I
don't think that health should be an issue.  You'd have to clean up their
litter though, no matter how healthy they are. I don't think your boys
would want to play in their poop, and the dogs don't like to do that
either. So, no, I don't think keeping them in the house would be a problem.
They would have to go out every 3-4 hours in the day; but at night, if you
take them out at around 9 o'clock, they'll stay all night without messing
themselves up." she explained.

"Oh, we're up very early; so I don't think letting them outside would be an
issue.  And our backyard is roomy and fenced," I said.

"Well, then it sounds like you have an ideal setting for keeping an
animal."

"You've been most kind spending so much time with us.  But we're simply
going to have to do some thinking before we make any decisions on adoption.
But if I know these boys, I suspect it may be a rather swift
deliberation... I might just have to impose an arbitrary moratorium on pet
purchases to make them think about it..."


I did have an afterthought. "Oh, yeah!" a last minute idea, you know:
"Would you mind giving these little guys a pep talk on how to be
responsible to their animals, maybe a few words on how to care for them,
whatever might come to your mind?  I'd be SUPREMELY appreciative of your
teaching,"

"OH, sure, absolutely," our guide said.  And with that she set about a long
and detailed instruction session for the boys WITH demonstrations, which
ALONE, would make this a most valuable and productive family field trip.

*****


And a while later, the four of us slipped out of the gravel drive heading
back south on Caldara.

It was unusually quiet as the four of us rode together back toward the
house.  Every one of us was deep in contemplation. I think everyone was
affected by the little creatures locked in cages hoping against hope that
someone would come and rescue them from an unspeakable fate.

We as humans could understand the gravity of their plight.  Their capacity
for extrapolation didn't extend that far, thank God, not beyond whether
they were warm or hungry or feeling secure in the moment; a friendly touch,
a little attention was all they understood.  It was their blessing and
their undoing at the same time.

It was pretty clear that Nicky, and Jilder, and Hugo, and I, each one of
us, felt that we had unwittingly take on a personal responsibility just by
visiting the shelter, no matter how we adopted, because now we knew!

I couldn't stop thinking about, in the grand scheme of things, whether I
was just someone with one of those little $10 tags stuck unobtrusively up
in some corner of my world, somewhere!

Hugo & Jilder & Nicky ALL THREE must have $1,000,000 tags... worth far more
than I could afford, which left me feeling blessed.  I loved them all, no
matter WHAT their little tags might read.

I only hoped that they could love a $10 mutt like me.

*****

Without Kevin knowing, someone had penciled $1,000,000 on a post-it note
and stuck it, quite unobtrusively, on the rear window of his SUV...

*****