So about three weeks ago I made a crazy, emotionally driven decision. A decision that has dramatically changed my life, and that I have second-guessed at least once a day since making it.
But first, let me back track. For those of you who keep up with my blog, you know that I have been volunteering as a dog walker at the Oregon Humane Society. You also know that a while back I posted a blog pleading on behalf of a sweet dog named Tess who was desperately in need of a home, and then a couple weeks later made note of how I thought Tess had been adopted.
Well, it turned out that Tess hadn’t been adopted. The shelter was so over crowded with dogs that somebody who worked there decided to just take her home for the long weekend (it was thanksgiving). And a few days later when I was back to walk the dogs on my usual shift, there was Tess, back in her kennel, looking very depressed. Tess had been at the Humane Society a long time (since May) and it just didn’t look like anybody was going to adopt her. She’s an older dog (estimated around 8 years) and missing most of her teeth. She was my favorite dog to walk and I had really grown attached to her. She’d been there longer than any of the other dogs, and just so happened to end up at the shelter about the same time that I was going through a difficult break-up. When I’d walk her I’d joke to her that we both got dumped at the same time.
So anyhow, there I was, walking Tess again, conflicted in my joy of seeing her, and very sad when I had to put her back in her kennel. She was clearly depressed, she hadn’t been eating, and when I closed the kennel door behind her she just laid down and sank her head between her paws. I walked about three more dogs, then decided that I was going to take Tess home. I was not very confident that I’d be a good dog owner, I wasn’t really sure how my landlord would react, and was very nervous about the fact that I don’t have a backyard, I travel a lot, and tend to get pretty busy. But Tess is an older, calm dog and I had a strong hunch that if there was a perfect dog out there for me she was it. Plus, she really needed a home.
Driving home with Tess was a lot of fun, and the first hour of our new relationship was wonderful. But then the reality of being a dog owner set in and I immediately started having a severe anxiety attack. It started when I made the huge mistake of seeing if she would go from my van to the house without being hooked on a leash. The second she realized she was free, she bolted off towards the river and down to where the raccoons live. I spent about half an hour chasing after her, crawling through patches of blackberries and making a giant mess of myself and was finally able to grab her. But that triggered a wave of panic in my head of all the terrible things that could go wrong, and made me realize the giant responsibility I had just taken on.

The first night Tess slept fine but I didn’t sleep a wink. I was certain I had made a terrible mistake and decided I needed to take her back to the humane society. I was a good ‘dog uncle’ I thought, but being a dog parent was something I just wasn’t ready for. Too much to handle, too much to sacrifice. I went over in my head all the things I’d say to the people at the shelter. “Sorry, it’s me, not her, I’m just not ready for this.” or “holy cow, I just realized I am totally allergic to dogs,” or several other scenarios in-between. But I knew I was freaking out, and with the support of friends and family, was reminded that this was obviously going to be a big crazy thing, and that I should at least give it a few days. I decided to wait one week before making any decisions; one week to be a great dog uncle, take her for walks, give her treats and give her a bath. Give her a wonderful vacation away from the shelter, and if I had to take her back, then well I would know it was for the best.
As of today, I have had her for three weeks. The thought of making the decision to permanently keep her still scares me to death, but she is still here, and things are getting a lot easier. We have gone for lots of walks and rides, she likes to snuggle up under my feet when I am working at my desk, she has accompanied me out on ghost town filming expeditions, and last night she even helped us bust open a piñata. She is a pretty amazing dog, and is nearly the perfect dog that I thought she’d be, barring perhaps her deep desire to chase after any rodent or cat sized living thing that she sees. I don’t think she’ll ever be an off-leash dog, but then again I think most dogs are like that.
When I adopted her I also learned more about her history. Turns out this is the second time she has been at the shelter. The first time she was brought in by animal control as a stray back in the spring of ’05. She was in the shelter for a few weeks and then was adopted by some shit-heat named Brian. After owning her for six months, one day Brian took her to a vet because she was all beaten up. She had broken ribs, and Brian said that she somehow did it to herself. And then the next day Brian never went back to pick her up. I got a copy of the vet report, and see notes of a two week attempt to track him down; calling various numbers and contacting the manager of the apartment building of his address, only to find he had been evicted over a year ago. Looks like Brian kicked Tess a little too hard one day, and then decided to dump her at the vet. Abandoned at the vet after being beaten up, and living in a kennel much smaller than she probably should have been, Tess then had a panic attack one night when nobody was there and tried to dig and chew her way out of her cage. She severely injured both her front paws and broke all of her front teeth in the process. These days she only has her back molars, and once the vet fixed her up she wound up being sent back to the Humane Society.
But Tess (who has already garnered the nickname ‘Toothless Jackson’) seems to be doing quite well, and has been handling all of this much better than I have been. She just lies around most the time, taking naps or starring at the wall. I have figured out that she likes to dance, or at least sit back on her hind legs and wave her front paws around. It seems to be her way of saying ‘hey check me out, I’m Tess, I’m super cute, you should come pet me.”
And it works every time.

9:35 pm
Thanksgiving is a holiday that I have never truly understood. I mean, of course I understand the idea of taking a moment to stop to consider all the things you have to be thankful for, it’s just the way that it is practiced that I don’t truly understand. Seeing as we already live in a very glutinous society, the idea of taking a day off to really indulge in the finer things in life comes off to me as much more hedonistic than thankful. I know that traditionally, Thanksgiving has been an ‘unofficial’ religious holiday to give thanks to God for the bounties that (hopefully) came with the harvest season. But these days, with factory farming and all the fertilizers and pesticides, it barely feels right to be celebrating a harvest that we, as a society, take for granted and don’t really know anything about. I’d be all for having a “thank a farmer’ day, and think that it would be great if we, as a society, spent a day every year learning and thinking about where our food comes from. But instead we eat five times as much as we should, get drunk, argue with our in-laws, and watch football.
But I do agree with the basic concept that we all have a lot to be thankful for, it’s just that I think the way our country acknowledges the holiday plays off more like a bad joke than something sincere. How about a day of fasting? Or maybe we continue to spend all day in the kitchen making delicious meals, but then when the feast is finished we bring the food to some poor family or old folks who can’t get out of their homes? That seems to me to be such a more obvious way to reconcile a notion that we need to show gratitude for our excesses than sitting around all day gorging ourselves until we can’t eat anymore.
But I should probably stop complaining.
Lately it seems like there has been a bountiful harvest in the digital realm. While we are on the topic of giving thanks, let me declare my gratitude towards Jona for starting up Music-By-Friends-For-The-Radio; a wonderful internet radio show (pod-cast? I am so not hip with the lingo) that has turned on many people, myself included, to some great new music. I can’t stop listening to last weeks mix, and am particularly excited to have been introduced to the French electro-pop outfit o.lamm
I am also super stoked on the new digital pog revolution, brought into the world by Michael Bell-Smith and brought to my attention by our very own E-Rock. It is obvious that Digital Pogs will soon be everywhere; I just wonder how long will it be before some advertising agency totally rips-off the idea. And speaking of advertising agencies ripping off artists, I am very thankful that someone is finally making a huff about how blatantly the new Nissan Sentra commercials are ripping off (fellow Uncertain States of America) artist Matt Johnson’s piece Bread Face. (and thanks to Jeff Jahn for the heads up!)
While I am in the groove, I should probably announce my profound thanks for Urban Honking! UrHo is a great thing, and the opportunity to blog here is an honor. The dudes behind it work their behinds off, entirely on a volunteer basis. They could probably make a wad of cash if they decided to sell ads, but their choice not to shows their true dedication to this community. THANKS DUDES!!!
OKAY. IT IS TIME TO DEFROST THE TURKEY POT-PIE

6:15 pm
IT is with a bittersweet joy that I tell you the wonderful news that Tess seems to have been adopted! Being a holiday and all, the adoption people had the day off so I was unable to confirm, but there was a new dog in her kennel today, and Tess was nowhere to be found. I hope and believe that she is probably with her new family right now, attentively waiting for falling crumbs underneath a dinning room table on which sits a great thanksgiving feast. Maybe her new owners have given her an orange bandana to celebrate the festive season, and it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she ends up having a better thanksgiving dinner than me. I was very much looking forward to seeing her today, but her adoption is truly something to be thankful for. (hey, who ever adopted her, just in case you read my blog please drop me a line!!!)
One thing that’s for certain is she sure missed a crazy day at the humane society. It was a relative ghost town, with only a few key staff members and a small handful of volunteers on duty. The dogs were going totally bonkers, and getting them all out was wet and slow going. The kennel is jammed packed, with a current roster of 105 dogs, and since the humane society was closed today, the dogs didn’t have the normal daily interaction with people coming in to look at them. The rain was relentless, and as the afternoon proceeded, the few volunteers that were there slowly started drifting away to the call of turkey dinners. By mid afternoon it was down to just me and one other volunteer named Kelly, we had both been there for a few hours and were totally soaked, but there were still about 30 dogs needing to get out and neither of us had any big dinner plans to run off to so we stuck it out.

[Warner, a ten month old lab, was the last dog to be taken out today. I’d like to thank him for being so patient while we took 105 other dogs out before him. But something tells me, that even with the wait and the cold dark rain, he was pretty thankful as well.]
At 4:45 I got the last dog out, and soon after was thankful to get in my minivan and crank the heat. Driving home wet and tired after walking homeless dogs in the rain for six hours, the thought of people sitting in warm houses and eating lots of good food made me a little jealous. My turkey potpie wasn’t sounding so good anymore and the idea of dropping in unexpectedly at Ari and Greg’s crossed my mind, but I smelled and felt like a dirty wet dog, so I figured I just stick to my original plan.
Don’t worry; I don’t plan on this blog becoming a dog blog. I have always found it pretty annoying when people get a little too excited about talking about their pets, and it is not my intention to bore you with how funny Roscoe the old pit-bull is, or how adorable Piper the black lab is. But I have become fascinated with observing these dogs’ behavior patterns; how they interact with each other and with us- the mysterious people that just show up and take them for walks and clean up after them. There is almost always a great deal of tension amongst the dogs in the kennel, especially today when there aren’t too many people around to pay attention to them. They bark and howl and jump around their cages when you walk in the room in what seems to be a competitive fit to try to get your attention ahead of all the other dogs. Dogs are pack animals and they are used to living together, but not with walls and cages separating them. The dogs with alpha male tendencies seem to have the most stress, not being able to figure out who really is the alpha and therefore always being on a heightened sense of alert. There is a giant red Chow that I think would be the Alpha of the entire kennel right now, and every time you walk past his cage walking another dog he totally flips out, barking and snarling and looking like he might tear through the kennel door. But when you get him outside he becomes super sweet and is totally nice to other dogs he encounters while being walked. It’s just like they need that brief moment of “hey, who’s boss, oh yeah, I’m boss, let me sniff your crotch, okay see you later” and once they have that figured out they are totally cool. There is probably a couple other big dogs with strong alpha tendencies that I wouldn’t want this chow to come into contact with, but for all the others who immediately sense his manly man ways they are quick to accept him as the dominant one and are chill with it. The dogs don’t really seem to care who is in charge, just as long as they are clear on where the stand in the pecking order. But I think the close proximity but constant separation makes that very difficult. Each one is the alpha when they are alone in their kennel barking loudly, or potentially at the bottom of the ladder, they just don’t know and I think it worries them.
Okay, I am going to take a shower and stop pretending to be an animal psychologist.

10 am
I have a long-standing tradition of getting a turkey pot-pie and a bottle of whisky and spending thanksgiving by myself. It’s not that I am a curmudgeon (well, maybe I am a little bit of one); it’s just that I really enjoy the quiet solitude that a holiday spent alone can bring. Roommates vacate, the city streets go quiet, and for one afternoon you can imagine what it might feel like to be the only person on the planet. (Maybe that is why I like the movie The Omega Man so much?)
It’s been a few years since I was able to spend Thanksgiving alone, and I must say that this year I am stepping it up a bit. Yesterday I was surprised to find that New Seasons Market doesn’t carry the Hungry Man line of TV dinners, so I had to settle for something that is probably much better and healthier. The days of the cheapest possible whiskey are over too. I just turned 34, I gots to grow up sometime…
I remember one great thanksgiving, in 1997 I think, where I had a whole house to myself for an entire weekend. I was in a band back then and we had a basement full of instruments, and I locked myself down there for days with my four-track and recorded hours of crazy music. (in fact, a bit of UrHo trivia, I think I was rocking out on either Adam Forkner’s or AC Dickson’s drum set). And then a couple years later I made my short film Sincerely, Joe P. Bear over thanksgiving weekend (oh the joys of depression during the holiday season). So who knows, maybe this year things will be equally productive and engaging. And if worse comes to worse I can just stumble down the film center to watch the Bella Tarr movies.

the view from here, right now.
But first things first; being that today is a holiday and that most people have family gatherings to go to and mounds of food to digest, most the volunteers at the Humane Society are taking the day off. It’s one thing to quietly ignore your friends turkey dinner invitations, but the idea of sitting around all day drinking whisky while a bunch of dogs sit in their kennels holding their bladders in hopes that somebody will show up to take them outside is totally unacceptable, so I signed up for double duty of dog walking today. I figure that I can bitch and moan all day about my life, but that I really have a lot to be thankful for, not to mention that it is much more fun to bitch and moan after you have done your good deed for the day.

Yes, it is true, but like so many other aspects of my life, it all seems like a cruel joke or a scene from some bad movie. You see, I have been volunteering at the Oregon Humane Society for the past few months as a dog walker, and, well, I have fallen head over heels for a 7 year old Chow/Huskie mix named Tess. Tess is a calm, sweet dog that has been at OHS since early June, and I can’t figure out why nobody wants to adopt her. She is cute as can be, likes to wear bandannas, and spends a lot of time sitting around scratching herself. Every week I show up for my shift reluctantly eager to see her; I feel conflicted because I know I want her to get adopted to a good home, but I am always a bit relieved to find that I get to walk her at least one more time. I would adopt Tess in a heartbeat if I had any faith that I’d be a good dog owner, but I know with my lifestyle and profession that I just couldn’t maintain a responsible level of ownership. I travel way too much, don’t have a yard, and have a hard enough time keeping myself properly fed and groomed. I’d be a terrible dog owner. It’s an impossible love.
The thing is that people don’t seem to want to adopt the older, bigger dogs. Older, small dogs get swooped up pretty quickly, and puppies go almost instantaneously. Today there was a mob of people who showed up right as the shelter opened because they heard the rumor that a litter of Labradoodles had just come in. The puppies weren’t even ready to be put up for adoption, but the public was already waiting. I tried showing off the lovely and well behaved Tess, but nobody seemed interested.

(here is Tess wearing her flashy pink bandanna)
I love volunteering as a dog walker. I go in once a week for about 3 hours and walk as many dogs as I can. Other volunteers are usually there as well, and we try to make sure all of the dogs get out for a walk at least twice a day. Many of the dogs are housebroken, so the poor things will hold it until someone comes along to take them outside. At first it is pure insanity; the dog wants to get out so badly it can barely contain itself, and all the other dogs in the kennel start barking and going bonkers because they want to be let out too. But once you get the dog out of the kennel and onto the grass so it can do its thing, it usually calms down and is just incredibly happy to be outside. You take the dog for a couple laps around the walking path behind the shelter, or maybe bring it to a pin and play ball with it, then you take it back to the kennel and switch it out for another one. There are often more than 80 dogs at the shelter, so rotating them out for walks is a never-ending process.
Most of the dogs at the shelter are bigger dogs between the ages of 6 months and 2 years. My guess is that people buy these dogs as puppies, when they are cute and docile, but when they become older, bigger, and more energetic the owners realize the dog is too much to handle and they bring it to the humane society to put up for adoption. There are also a number of strays and dogs that have been transferred from animal control, some that have been abused and neglected, and some that were just out-right abandoned. The Oregon Humane Society is definitely top notch, but even the best of shelters is still a pretty miserable place for a dog to live. These dogs have no idea what is happening; it’s like the worlds and homes that they knew just disappeared and were replaced by this terrible reality of being locked up in a kennel all day in an environment of overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells. The dogs get really stressed out, and then stress each other out. Sometimes they all start barking at once, creating an ear shattering cacophony of sound, and creating a sort of collective freak-out that makes even the calmest dogs start to panic.
What is amazing, though, is that each dog retains pieces of it’s past life, and evidence of its personality show regardless of the situation. Each dog is a complete mystery; with a secret history that we can only tap by analyzing it’s reactions. For instance, there is one that I have walked a few times that gets really excited every time it sees a silver car and pulls towards it expecting to jump in and go for a ride. Another one gets very excited when it sees blonde women, and another one that gets really freaked out around kids. There is a beautiful and gigantic Akita named Yumi that I have walked a couple times in the past, but today when I entered her kennel to leash her up, she started shaking and cowering in fear. It was raining outside so I had my hat and jacket on, but I also remembered that I have a new mustache that I didn’t have the last time I walked her, leading me to believe she was mistaking me for someone else, for some mustached man in her past that had been bad to her.
So, to my friends here in Portland with big back yards and a hankering to be a dog owner, please consider adopting Tess or any of the other great dogs at OHS. I’d be so happy if someone I knew adapted my new found love; it would be very easy to convince me to come over and take her for walks every now and then. Please allow this love to live!!!

(here she is a few weeks ago wearing her traditional red cowboy bandanna)