Duncan's Blog

I am going on a brief holiday (5 days) from the mainland to Honolulu. I got a fair fare to get there and have secured a decent hotel. Now I'm looking at car rental prices and places to go, people to see, things to do... There are some museums and exhibits that I love to revisit. I also go to the zoo and spend some time on the beach. I am not what you would call a beach comber... I live where the sun shines most of the year.
I know that people look at my blog and am going to take a wild stab at seeing if some guy from here might be interested in sharing a room. He'd have to get to the island on his own, but I would be happy to share the space. It just seems like such a waste.
Just a thought...

Tomorrow will be the one week mark of my having put down the family dog. The dog was not mine. He belonged to Cook, my first tenant/housemate. The dog's name was Lucky (or Lucky II); a replacement dog after Lucky (or Lucky I) had to be put down. So I refer to my relationship to the dog as having inherited him. He used to sit on the back doorstep and I had wondered if he might have thought that Cook would be returning for/to him. Or maybe he just liked to smell the air; picking up scents of other nearby dogs in their respective yards.
I don' t come from culture that believes in heaven and/or hell. It always seemed like a very neat paradigm. I was told that animals were not allowed in these places because the requirement for entrance was the existence of a soul. Presumably, xTians don't believe that animals have a soul. I'm guessing they also don't believe in reincarnation or transmutation.
Since neither Cook nor his dog was a member of my tribe, I have nothing invested in wondering if they are together. I also have a notion that time stands still once earth-bound souls are released from their bodies. So they float in space and in time somewhere between 6' under the earth's surface and that place that is beyond the heavens where the Almighty dwells. I'm guessing the meeting time might be instantaneous. G*d knows how to pair up family members (He doesn't need to consult Ancestry.com). And matching animals with their owners should be a piece of cake.
This is an easy concept for someone who has had a few dogs or cats. But what about the Texas longhorn rancher, or the land-girl with a sheep station in New Zealand? Imagine how many animals would wind up with these folks if humans were indeed matched with animals in the afterlife.
...
This evening I cooked Great Northern beans flavored with red cabbage, onion, savory, thyme, paprika, and garlic. The liquid that is drained from the beans is almost as delicious as the beans themselves. About a year ago--before my trip to Costa Rica--I decided to learn how to cook and eat beans for breakfast. I serve them up with rice or--if another grain is around--a substitute such as barley, red winter wheat, rye, farro, or even lentils. Granted, the Costa Ricans are not big on eating variety grains instead of rice, but I at least make the attempt of eating something other than bread/toast.
This morning I had leftover goat biryani that I mixed with vegan pad Thai noodles with tofu. Quite the flavorful fusion.
I mention this because Lucky II used to lick the plates after I was done eating. He was sort of the pre-wash to putting the plates in the dishwasher. It was a bonding ritual that I will no longer have in my life...

Assisted suicide, put out of misery, euthanize...
Over a dozen years ago I was living with an older man I called Cook. Cook had moved into my home with his pit bull/mastiff. When that dog had died after a long life, he needed to have the pet immediately replaced. (He remained dog-less for less than three weeks). Lucky I was replaced with Lucky II, a pit bull/Labrador mix. When Cook himself passed away, the care of Lucky II fell upon my shoulders. He had already lived with me for six years or so and was part of the household/family.
Yesterday, I had pre-arranged to take the day off. It was the day after Columbus Day and I was going to enjoy a long weekend. I contacted the vet to have the dog's nails trimmed. On the way home, I had stopped at the post office. When I returned to the car, the dog began to have a seizure. His back leg twitched uncontrollably and he was drooling and his head was banging against the seat. I raced back to the veterinarian.
They 'stabilized' him and said that there wasn't anything they could do for the first time event. "Watch him. Make sure his head is protected. And keep him well-hydrated." I sat on the kitchen floor while he drank water. He then paced circles around me. After about 3 or 4 rounds he got on his side on the floor and had another attack. I filmed it. After that, he walked outside. From inside the house, I could hear his nails scratching against the field-stone path. He was seizing outside; his tongue was digging into the soil. We went back to the vet for a third visit in one day.
This time, poor Lucky had three separate seizures during this 2½ mile drive. The vet put an IV catheter into him and gave him oxygen. He then came into the room and told me that Lucky was an older dog and a larger dog and that tests would be very expensive. I stopped the dialogue there and just asked if it would be considered a humane thing to simply end the dog's life. The doctor agreed.
So the dog that had been sedated and given oxygen was lying under covers and towels. I thanked him for his loyal friendship and for sharing a bed with me at night. I told him that he was my alpha and omega and reminded him that there would never be a replacement for him. And then I left.
Today is the first morning where I will not feed him.
A new life begins in my dog-less home.

I have recently looked at a website that offers the potential for dating or a(n) hook-up. It caters to older men. What these older men seek is up to the man himself. I generally look for someone who is +/- 5 years my age. These days I will sometimes expand the range to +/- 10 years.
Someone called me an ageist. I disagreed with this. I believe that age is an important aspect in harmonizing comparability. For one thing, not everyone who is younger than I am has access to many of the references that I have or make. I also believe that there is often a perceived notion that the older person is the one who is in charge or the one who might exploit the younger individual.
I remember being 20-something and wondering where rent would come from. Rents have certainly gone up considerably since I was 20-something. These days I more or less know where it will come from, I just don't like how much of it I have to shell out. But I digress.
This is an ongoing topic that I will--no doubt--revisit in my blog world.

dovetail [ duhv-teyl ]
to join or fit together compactly or harmoniously.

piggyback [ pig-ee-bak ]
adjective
sharing commercial time, space, etc.iggyback advertising.
to attach or ally to as or as if a part of the same thing:to piggyback human rights agreements with foreign aid.

So often in meetings I will hear the alien (i.e., non-native American speaking) participants use one of these terms as a preface to what they wish to contribute to the conversation. So, not only are your comments germane to the matter at hand, they are also compact, create harmony, share, attach, or ally themselves to the discussion. Me? I prefer to start with, "If I may go off-topic for a moment," or "To address another matter at this time..."
I think about this right now because I was looking at a profile in another website of an older man who was looking for a friend, partner, playmate. His narrative was somewhat scant; "... exhibitionist, webcam bating, j/o, LTR." It sort of gives him quite a bit of latitude with his preferences or wish list parameters. I, for example, am NOT an exhibitionist and don't strip for the camera. I can watch for a short while, but I find I am soon quite bored with what I see. (Once had a teenage BF who liked to do it in front of the bathroom mirror so that all the sin could be easily washed away).
Speaking of sin <to dovetail on whatever>, I note that Mr Exhibitionist has photos of himself in rooms that have crosses on the wall. And if a cross wasn't on a wall, then one would be dangling from a chain around his neck. I have often wondered about men who have multiple images of their beloved Jesus within visual range and who turn to it during periods of self-abuse. Gives new meaning to the term "Passions of ..."
I'm not of the cross/crucifix faith. I don't mind looking at it if it happens to be there, but I am certainly not a worshiper of it. And I'm not all that keen on the ones that have the Christ still affixed.