A Dog’s DNA, Part 2

Photo credit: umseas on VisualHunt / CC BY


In Part 1 of this blog series, I considered the state of things before receiving our dog Ethan’s DNA test kit results, including some guesses as to what those results might show.

A reminder of why we care, whether or not we should: “Dogs vary in size, shape, color, coat length and behavior more than any other animal” (Weber Shandwick as cited in ScienceDaily, 2008). As our best friends and family members, dogs’ unique physical variations naturally pique our curiosity about which parts come from which sources.

In this post, I reveal the results and discuss the aftermath of our dog’s DNA analysis. Some things haven’t changed, and some will never be the same.


DNA Denial

They don’t believe it. They say it can’t be. They’re incredulous about what lies beneath the surface—the surface features of our dog, that is. Reasons in the unbelievers for their disbelief may involve the following:

  1. Aversion to a fact due to prior negative associations
  2. The intractable human tendency to believe only our eyes
  3. Simple unmet expectations

Then, there is the plain fact that genetics is a complex science with equally complex social and cultural implications.

But what exactly is so incredible? And am I a true believer by contrast?

  • Unbelievable: The breeds represented in—and missing from—our dog’s DNA.
  • Me: Ever the skeptic but open to possibilities. (Just see this blog’s About me page.)

In short, “I want to believe,” but like Fox Mulder of The X-Files, my fatal flaw would be to believe that “the truth is out there” when, actually, the truth that matters most is in here, in me, when it comes to my family, which includes my dog.

Facts are not truth, and especially not absolute “Truth.” They can only inform–and only if we let them. These particular dog-related facts are the result of scientific research, the genomic analysis of the DNA from my dog’s saliva.

And it’s no easy science for us lay people to grasp. From terms like “genotype,” “locus,” “phenotype,” and “allele” to phenomena “wolfiness,” “paternal haplotype,” “genetic age,” and the diverse functions genes have in an organism, it’s a lot to unpack. DNA analysis piles on thousands of data and facts to sift through if we have any hope of reaching some larger truth that relies on it.

“Ethan, what are you?”

The bottom-line fact for my family is that our dog isn’t what any of us thought he was. Sure, he’s still a dog and a best friend. But his breed make-up was definitely a surprise to everyone from the immediate family to dog-owning friends to his foster mom to our dog trainers. (I haven’t informed the vet yet.)

But really, I’m not so distant in my reactions from the more staunch non-believers. I look at my dog, and I look at these breed photos, and I think, “I don’t see any of that in there.” I can’t blame them for doubting the science; I am not without doubt. But then, the results are not without holes, remaining questions, and uncertainty, anyway.

We thought we knew . . . some things.

A fact and a truth as old as dirt is that appearances can be deceiving. The fascinating thing is how many different kinds of applications that truth really has. It’s not just our eyes that lie to us, though. It’s also precedent, accepted practice, tradition, conventional wisdom, emotional denial, and the assumptions of what we thought was “common” knowledge.

Specifically, the precedents and traditions that form convention tell us what certain dog breeds are supposed to look like. Then, common belief tells us we can identify mixed breeds by using our eyes and memories to link aspects of physical appearance that we see with our understanding of breed types.

From novice dog owner to seasoned dog trainer to veterinarian, dog shelter manager, and animal control warden, people interested in canines tend to think we know which breeds are most likely present in a dog of mixed breed heritage simply by looking at the creature before us.

But, man, are we wrong. So. Very. Wrong.

No one likes being wrong, even when we claim we’re only guessing. We like to think we’re well qualified to chime in, even if we’re not quite experts. We like to think our contribution is helpful, informative, unique perhaps, even if we give it off the cuff. We like to be right, and we certainly hate admitting when we’re wrong.

In light of our stubbornness, I think I need to say it again so we have some time to get used to the idea: We’re frequently and very much wrong when it comes to identifying dog breed mixes by sight alone–without registration papers or knowledge of a dog’s both male and female parentage. Part 3 of this series will explain exactly why this is so.

Science can provide answers, but it can also raise more questions than it answers. The journey to discovering my dog’s breed ancestry is one such case. Like it or not, the issues take some unpacking, along with a healthy dose of patience and humility.

So, as a matter of curiosity and entertainment, and maybe some education and insight, in this post, I’d like to share our dog’s DNA results, our reactions to them, and some reflections on their implications. First, a caveat.

Three Key Points

I believe it’s important to keep three key points in mind while digesting all of this.

1. Time, tradition, and cultural rituals have shaped and fixed our conceptions of dogs, dog breeds, and their relationships with people and each other.

2. Prejudice for or against certain dog breeds, like human-focused prejudice, has some basis in fact, some in cultural tradition, and some in outright misconception influenced in large part by pop culture stereotypes and the media. Deny it if you wish, but none of us is free of harboring some kind of racism–whether our focus is human, canine, floral. . . .

3. The meaning of anything can be highly personal, and meaning should be informed by more than one factor in life–such as reason, emotion, dreams and goals, research, study, established scientific fact, the mysteries of nature science has yet to uncover, and the practical demands of living.

With these thoughts in our back pocket, let’s consider the results and implications of one dog’s breed mix analysis and other DNA details, as well as my family’s and my reactions to them.

My Guesses

If you read Part 1, you’ll see a bit of conjecture as to my dog Ethan’s possible breed ancestry. Although I labeled it a “hypothesis,” that’s really a misnomer, suggesting a degree of scientific method I did not apply. Instead, what I’ll now call my “guesses” from Part 1 came down to the following:

"If I were to pick the largest number of possible ingredients 
going into the oven that made my dog, it would include 
but perhaps not be limited to:
Vizsla
Labrador retriever
German shepherd
springer spaniel or Brittany
Doberman
Dachshund
and some terrier blend

"If I were to pick the smallest number of possible ingredients, 
it would include one of the following:
Vizsla, German shepherd, or
Vizsla, Labrador retriever, or
Vizsla, retriever (non-Lab)"

DNA Analysis Genetic Breed Results

Here are the actual DNA breed results from Embark.

"Mixed Breed

24.2% Rottweiler ["Rotti"]
24.1% American Pit Bull Terrier ["Pittie"]
17.4% German Shepherd Dog ["GSD"]
6.2% Doberman Pinscher ["Dobie"]
28.1% Supermutt

"What's in that Supermutt? There may be small amounts of DNA 
from these distant ancestors:
Collie
Golden Retriever
Boxer
Chow Chow"

See the full Embark DNA analysis results on Ethan’s public profile: embk.me/ethan5. They include a brief Summary, Genetic Breed Result, Genetic Stats, Breed Mix Matches, DNA Breed Origins, Family Tree, Traits (physical), Maternal Haplotype, and Paternal Haplotype. Good luck! It is fascinating. The only parts not included in the public profile are Research (additional surveys we took about Ethan), Health, and DNA Relatives.

Initial Reactions?

Number 1: Surprise.

Ethan, December 2017

The biggest surprise? I think it’s a tie between his having no measurable trace of Hungarian Vizsla and the prominence of Rottweiler and pit bull in his blood.

Some of my guesses involved the right idea: GSD, retriever, Dobie, some terrier due to size. But actually, the Rotti, though stocky like the rest of the identified breeds, is medium-sized, too.

Nevermind that we originally set out to look for a Vizsla as our pet dog.

Nevermind that the rescue organization we adopted Ethan from advertised him as a “Vizsla/Lab mix.”

Nevermind that everywhere we go at least one person asks, “Is that a Vizsla?”

Nevermind that we’ve been answering everyone with “Yes, we think he has some Vizsla in him.”

He’s not a Vizsla. Not even close. He may not even have any trace of the breed in him at all, and we’ll probably never know one way or the other. Bye-bye, Vizsla fantasy.

Family Reactions

Number 2: Alarm.

For some of my family members, learning that all these powerful breeds historically used for guarding, protection, police work, attack, and fighting come together somehow in our dog was more than a surprise. It was alarming. Their images of the Rottweiler, pit bull, German shepherd, and Doberman are not of friendliness, safety, or even “goodness” in a dog. These breeds, at least some of the time, are seen as mean, vicious, predatory killers, barely controlled by their owners and often used for nefarious purposes.

Hollywood, the media, and traditional breeding have all played a role in forming this stigma. Although the guarding nature of these dogs, such as the Doberman, can be used for comic relief, the premise is always that the breed is formidable, imposing, even monstrous. Films like Up and ’80s TV shows like “Magnum P.I.” play up the alpha dog image of the Doberman, the pet of the eccentric, wealthy elite and the animal antagonist that terrorizes the hero in the story. 

Rottweilers can be associated with the junk yard and cartoons where the dog is tasked with keeping out pests and trespassers. In the ’80s cult classic film Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, the Bueller family Rotti rips the trespassing principal to shreds in his meddlesome pursuit of the truant Ferris.

As the breed most commonly used for K-9 police units, German shepherds sniff out drugs, guns, bombs, and dead bodies, and run down and subdue crime suspects. High energy, fierce looking, and powerful, they’re the bad asses of the law enforcement sector.

Little needs to be said about the nasty reputation of the pit bull, though, like all these others, it is grossly misrepresentative and extremely unfair. See the more fitting profiles of the pit bull in a later section and at the bottom of this post.

None of these dogs is portrayed as an obedient sporting, sprightly terrier, or lap-dog toy breed character. They’re not seen as playmates or accessories. They’re seen as dangerous and downright scary–creatures, not dogs, always to be avoided. 

Influence of Personal Experience

It doesn’t help that my parents have negative associations with at least one of these breeds. My brother was bit in the face by a German shepherd at age 5, and my mother for one has been afraid of them ever since. My mother-in-law was bitten by a dog, though not one of these breeds. My father-in-law doesn’t like pit bulls at all, and he’s not alone, but he has a special bond with our dogs and other pets any time they interact.

While not necessarily afraid of them, my father was the one who pointed out how our culture has conditioned us to fear these and other specific breeds. People who do not currently own and never owned dogs will more easily tend to fall victim to those stereotypes in their interactions with dogs. My husband did not grow up with dogs as I did, so he is more tentative around less familiar dogs than I tend to be, but only mildly so.

Number 3: Rejection.

Even after I attempted to explain the results, my in-laws emphatically declared, half in jest, “We don’t care what the results say. We’re saying he’s a Vizsla.” I had nowhere to go from there, so I accepted it with a smile and a “Fair enough.”

If the details or reasons for the results don’t matter to others, you can’t change that; nor can you imbue anyone with curiosity they just don’t have. We all have our priorities of what to focus on. But I can try to satisfy my own curiosity, and I wanted to try to understand. So, since I started this blog series, I decided to do my best to bring it to some meaningful resolution.

My Personal Reactions

Number 4: Confusion.

Absence of the Vizsla breed in my dog, though admittedly a little disappointing, hasn’t been the main issue for me. Likewise, I don’t have a problem with these breeds in the mix. With the influence of Cesar Millan’s Dog Whisperer TV show, reading about raising and training dogs, and substantial lay research about dogs in general, I’ve long held positive views of just about every breed of dog. So I don’t carry the same degree of typical prejudices held by others.

For me, it’s simply hard to see in my dog what the DNA results claim about his breed mix and the likeliest associated character traits and behaviors.

There are important scientific and societal reasons for this that you won’t want to miss later on. See Part 3.

Meanwhile, let’s get to know the breeds in Ethan’s genetic mix.

Enter Research.

The Rottweiler (24.2%)

After popping in and out of all the linked question marks on Embark’s results package, one of the first additional things I did was find out more about Rottweilers.

Looking for similarities primarily, as opposed to differences, I discovered I could see some Rottweiler traits and behaviors in our Ethan. These include:

  1. intelligence–Ethan learns faster than I do in agility class, that’s for sure.
  2. stubbornness–This often goes hand in hand with smarts.
  3. food orientation–Ethan is nothing if not food driven.
  4. strength and physicality–He’s also pretty strong and can play rough at the dog park.
  5. lounging preference–Ethan can be a lazy boy, too, preferring the cozy indoors to especially wet conditions outside.
  6. lack of barking–Our dog hardly ever barks.
  7. direct eye contact–I suppose he often looks me in the eye. . .
  8. athleticism–Ethan jumps, climbs, leaps up onto neighborhood boulders, picnic tables, and utility boxes–all with our initial permission when he was a pup; he loves turning corners, running through tunnels, jumping hurdles, and running faster than every other dog at play. Source consulted: “11 Facts Rottweiler People Understand Better Than Anyone”

Consulting just one source on this, I found that Ethan matches up with Rottweiler behavior in a solid 7 of 11 traits, which are only general tendencies and, as with all breed traits, do not apply to every individual of that breed.

The ones he lacks from that list are lap dog behavior (prefers to lounge alone), loyalty to the point of guard dog behavior (he’s as eagerly friendly and mild as they come), and carrying the stigma/responsibility of being an obvious member of the breed (he really looks nothing like a Rottweiler).

He’s also deferential enough not to stare us down, though he can make eye contact frequently. He’s strongly bonded to me, but he’s still not entirely comfortable being invited onto the couch since we initially taught him not to go on it, or even having us lie down beside him (he gets suspicious), and he has shown no particular protective or possessive tendencies with either of us.

While this is only one source, it opened my eyes at least to the possibilities of similarity to a breed I was less familiar with and hadn’t considered during my concerted guessing period.

Physically, Ethan also has ears that seem to match in many photos I’ve seen of Rottweilers.

Despite these parallels, however, there is truth in the notion that all this is simply an exercise in finding what you look for–in this case, similarities. That’s called confirmation bias, a plague rampant in the media. What’s to say I wouldn’t find the same degree of similarity between my dog and ten other breeds? Speaking of other breeds . . .

The American Pit Bull Terrier (24.1%)

So, what about the American Pit Bull Terrier? Which of its typical behaviors match Ethan’s?

Thankfully for his relationship with people (including close family with fear of the breed), as with the Rottweiler, Ethan bears practically no physical resemblance to the pit bull or related breeds. However, are there behaviors unique to the pit bull that Ethan might exhibit?

The Embark description characterizes pit bulls as “sweet, talented, and affectionate.” Ethan has become more affectionate over time, gradually, but he did not start out all hugs and kisses with us. Ethan is sweet and talented, but these traits are so vague as to apply to at least a dozen other breeds or simply great individual dogs.

Embark’s description also says that pit bulls “enjoy the company of their family members” and “get along very well with children.” Both are true of Ethan–and lots of other dogs and dog breeds.

I was unable to use an American Kennel Club (AKC)’s breed description because American Pit Bull Terrier is not an official AKC-recognized breed. The closest related breeds in their database are the American Staffordshire Terrier (“Amstaff”) and Staffordshire Bull Terrier (“Staffie”). The key words associated with the former are “confident, smart, good-natured” and with the latter “clever, brave, tenacious.”

It’s the “bull” and associated traits that made the Staffie a good fighter. Even this minor shift in emphasis between the two breeds assures me that it would be faulty to compare breed characteristics to the American Pit Bull Terrier as a way of ascertaining from another source the breed “type” most likely represented in Ethan.

But based on the Embark details, we can still make some basic assessments: Unlike the stereotypical pit bull, Ethan thinks every other dog is his best friend, and he is not as high energy as most pit bulls I’ve observed. However, he can be pretty scrappy at play, and he does excel at agility, an example of pit bull versatility and talent. But again, pit bulls vary in behavior just as much as any other pure breed’s specimens.

So much for the pit bull. Despite its comprising almost a quarter of Ethan’s DNA, very little closely, and nothing exclusively, associates him with the breed’s visual–or purportedly standard behavioral–traits.

Other Breeds

Without swimming in the details, it’s a similar story for the German shepherd (17.4%) and Doberman (6.2%).

Photo credit: gomagoti on Visual hunt / CC BY-SA

Some traits line up; others don’t.

If you’d like details about any of the breeds identified in Ethan’s mix, including “Supermutt” estimated trace breeds, see the bottom of this post for a full set of breed profile highlights from Embark, American Kennel Club, and Westminster Kennel Club. See also my section below about the significance of the Supermutt component.

After receiving the results and learning more about the science behind all this, it was interesting and disappointing how the “a-ha” moments kept pace, neck and neck, with continued puzzlement.

Second Impressions: The Double Take

So why should these 4 breeds NOT dominate almost 70% of Ethan’s genetic inheritance?

Because, even going beyond the quick glance from Embark’s identified breeds to the creature we live with–and back, across man, it just doesn’t seem to stack up. Here’s why:

1. First, there’s his build.

The only breed named in his mixture that’s remotely close to Ethan’s body structure is the Doberman, which makes up the smallest percentage of definitively identifiable pure breed present at 6.2%.

Otherwise, he’s not stocky or broad-jawed like the pit bull, he doesn’t have the shorter muzzle of the Rotti or pittie, he’s not tall like the GSD or prick-eared like three-fourths of them, and, though several of them have deep chests, his rather high pelvic tuck matches none of them.

Instead, Ethan is lanky and wiry, slender even, with a long torso and bony butt, and, yes, he eats plenty every day. He’s downright petite. I’d sooner believe he had whippet in him than any of these four main breeds. Looking deeper, there may be some resemblance to the build of the collie.

Otherwise, the causes for his shape remain mysterious, at least to the same extent that other representatives in Ethan’s “Supermutt” DNA (beyond traces of collie, golden retriever, boxer, and chow chow), say, the other 15-25%, are themselves mysterious.

Go back far enough, if we really could, and you would think every mutt in Ethan’s ancestry has a pure breed ancestor. But it turns out that conception is wrong, too. More on original dog breeds later.

2. Second, that curly tail.

The only breed named in the mix with a curly tail is the chow chow. The tightness of the curl in Ethan’s tail more closely matches the chow chow than the more gradual curve of any of the other breeds’ tails. His tail shape is distinctive without a clear source, certainly not one source alone.

3. Third, his red color.

Ethan doesn’t have the coloring of any of these breeds’ standard versions that come to mind. Red is recessive, I learned from the trait science, but it was definitely a major factor leading us to believe in the Vizsla component. He also has a blond or buff undercarriage, underside of his tail and faint patch on his chest.

The only breed with a slightly stronger tendency in these directions is the pit bull, along with some of the breeds among the traces of retriever, collie, boxer, and chow chow that Embark supposes may be present.

4. Fourth, behavior.

Items 1-3 have to do with appearance, but we all inherit a lot more from our ancestors than just our looks. Off hand, the behaviors that strike me most about Ethan are his keen sense of smell relative to other breeds and his high propensity for scent tracking. I attributed these to some sort of hound breed in his DNA. What I did not think about during my guesses was how scent-oriented the German shepherd is. Caught me napping.

Behaviorally, Ethan sits like a Vizsla and is shy/sensitive like a Vizsla, but there isn’t much else I could point to in the Vizsla besides looks. Along with face shape and build, another reason I had ruled out pit bulls was muscle strength, but that’s hard to judge comparatively without owning other dogs, and Ethan is pretty strong in neck and jaw when we play tug of war. On the other hand, he routinely tumbles under the heftier charges of stocky dogs at the dog park. Note: My knowledge of the Vizsla breed profile comes from many sources beyond kennel clubs.

I might be one of the more easily convinced among my family members as to the veracity of the numbers, but seeing those numbers and reading the basic profile of each breed included in the results was not enough to settle my mind about match-up.

Even though I knew something about dog breeds already, the picture created by these results really didn’t look right, and searching for the reasons for them was the obvious next step.

I had to learn more if I was going to make sense of either the behavioral or physical appearance traits in the breeds the DNA says my dog Ethan contains.

Aside from identifiable breeds, the meaning of the Supermutt factor must also be considered.

Supermutt (28.1%)

Amidst the tendencies, likelihoods, prevalences, possibilities, and estimations inherent in this package of results, the largest variable of breed ID lies in the Supermutt designation. Obviously, this is not a breed but a label that shouts “no single breed dominates.” Not only that, at almost 30%, this component makes up the highest distinct percentage of Ethan’s breed mix DNA results.

Despite Embark’s guesses as to traces of breeds (again, see the bottom of this post for breed profile highlights) that could be present in this 28.1% mix of mixes, it really opens up the field of possible ancestors and the range of possible traits from those dogs. In so doing, “Supermutt” diminishes the potential influence on my dog of all of the first four breeds listed.

Conclusions? More Questions.

The results suggest their own decreasing significance for us. He’s a mutt, a highly mixed animal with no single dog breed making up who he is genetically. What more can be said? And where else in the results can I turn to find meaning?

As the picture complicates, it also distracts from the key points at this post’s intro. What can we really learn about pure breed prejudice through Ethan’s case?

The answers lie in answering the question, “How can a dog look so different from the physical breed traits of his genetic heritage?” And only the science can answer that.

During this educational process, I did gain clarifying insights, but I stewed about the breed appearance factors for quite some time afterwards. I would have to dig deeper to understand how a dog’s appearance and breed heritage can seem so at odds.

Not only the science but also the reason for the dissatisfaction really does beg for explanation. I mean, What gives? Did we waste our money? And how trustworthy are Embark’s science and report, anyway? 

Answering these questions will be the task of Part 3 of this post series. In Part 3, we’ll:

  • Learn why and how a dog can look so different from the physical breed traits of its genetic heritage.
  • Uncover what this insight means for visual breed identification of mutts when their parents are unknown.
  • Wrap up the series with an evaluation of our DNA analysis supplier, remaining questions, and final reflections.

Stay tuned!

See the full Embark DNA analysis results on Ethan’s public profile: embk.me/ethan5. They include a brief Summary, Genetic Breed Result, Genetic Stats, Breed Mix Matches, DNA Breed Origins, Family Tree, Traits (physical), Maternal Haplotype, and Paternal Haplotype. Good luck! (It is fascinating.)


Have you had your dog’s DNA analyzed?

What are your thoughts on all this?

Do Ethan’s results surprise you?

Feel free to share in the comments.


Sources Consulted and Cited

American Kennel Club. https://www.akc.org/

Embark. embarkvet.com. embk.me/ethan5

Finn, Maureen. (n.d.). 11 facts Rottweiler people understand better than anyone. The Dog People. Retrieved March 2019 from https://www.rover.com/blog/facts-rottweiler-people-understand/

Weber Shandwick Worldwide. (2008, June 23). DNA study unlocks mystery to diverse traits in dogs. ScienceDaily. Retrieved March 27, 2019 from www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080622225503.htm

Westminster Kennel Club. https://www.westminsterkennelclub.org/


Dog Breed Profile Comparison: Embark, American Kennel Club, and Westminster Kennel Club

Rottweiler

Embark description – “descended from Roman Molosser-type dogs” “one of the oldest herding breeds” “guarding” “protective . . . loving . . . loyal . . . can also show aggression if not properly socialized and trained” “Intelligent, energetic and loving” “short, high-shedding coat and a high tendency of drooling”
AKC – “loving, loyal confident guardian” “strength, agility, endurance” “robust working breed” “great strength” ” descended from the mastiffs of the Roman legions” “gentle playmate and protector” “observes outside world with a self-assured aloofness”
WKC – “medium large working breed with a strong willingness to please” “versatility” “originally designed to be an all-around farm dog” “endurance, agility, and strength” “compact, muscular build” “devoted companion”

German Shepherd Dog

Embark – “confidence, courageousness, and keen sense of smell coupled with notable intellitence” “heavy shedding coat that comes in both short and long varieties”
AKC – “confident, courageous, smart” “finest all-purpose worker” “large, agile, muscular” “noble character and high intelligence” “loyal, confident, courageous, and steady”
WKC – “highly intelligent, exceptional family dog” “willing companion” “enjoys endeavors of its owners” “herding and protection” “adaptability” “competitive in all performance activities”

Doberman Pinscher

Embark – “intelligent, loyal, and make for perfect companions as well as guard dogs” “a mixture of many different dog breeds that includes Beauceron, German Pinscher, German Shepherd, and Rottweiler” “very athletic and often excels in agility” “trainable and one of the top five smartest dogs”
AKC – “loyal, fearless, alert” “sleek and powerful, possessing both a magnificent physique and keen intelligence” “incomparably fearless and vigilent” “among the world’s finest protection dogs”
WKC – “an elegant athlet in a tight-fitting wrapper” “square, compact, muscular” “grace, beauty and nobility” “energetic and fearless” “an intelligent, affectionate, and obedient companion”

American Pit Bull Terrier*

Embark – “sweet, talented, and affectionate.” “enjoy the company of their family members” and “get along very well with children.”

* “American Pit Bull Terrier” is not an AKC- or WKC-recognized breed.

American Staffordshire Terrier

Embark – “fighter . . . easily managed . . . sweet, trusting disposition” “playful and people oriented” “stocky, muscular” “great strength” “grace, elegance” “generally playful and friendly” “showing affection to new people in the presence of their owner” “can be aggressive toward strange dogs” “protective nature if threatened” “intelligent, trained without much difficulty” “lively”
AKC – “confident, smart, good-natured” “courage proverbial” “loyal, trustworthy” “springy gait” “agile and graceful” “stiff, glossy coat” “keenly aware of surroundings” “game for anything” “lovable ‘personality dogs’” “like mental and physical challenges” “highly trainable”
WKC – “weight proportional to height” “loyal, trustworthy, courageous” “intelligence, strength and agility make him an excellent all-around dog”

Staffordshire Bull Terrier

Embark – “bull baiters, tenacity, aggression, intelligence” “stubborn” “really love people” “extremely social and loving” “enthusiastic and exuberant personality” “intense energy needs” “ability to get along with canines varies from dog to dog” “love of children” “’nanny dogs’” “strength and size . . . ideal for older children”
AKC – “clever, tenacious brave” “muscular but agile” “mild, playful with a special feel for kids” “sweet-natured, family-oriented” “true-blue loyal companions” “old fighting instinct lurks within”
WKC – “strength, intelligence, tenacity” “alert stance, big smile, wagging tail” “’affection for its friends and children in particular, its off-duty quietness and trustworthy stability’” “all-purpose family dog” “steady, dependable” “outstanding athletic ability”

Supermutt

Collie

Embark – “wonderfully loyal and intelligent family dog” “good looks and soft temperament” “popular among the social elite” “intelligent and quick to learn” “great athleticism, possessing great strength and speed” “sweet and friendly nature . . . loyalty and willingness to please” “not as energy intensive as the Border Collie” “otherwise quiet nature”
AKC – “devoted, graceful, proud” “famously fond of children” “swift, athletic” “thrive on companionship and regular exercise” “With gentle training, learn happily and rapidly” “loyalty, intelligence, sterling character”
WKC – “beautiful in temperament and body” “gentleness, intelligence, loyalty” “willingness to work closely to master” “exceptional with children” “devotion to family legendary” “primary focus on people” Rough = gatherer. Smooth – drover.

Golden Retriever

Embark – “hunting companion” “friendliness and intelligence” “generally lankier and darker than their British counterparts” “love of play and water”
AKC – “friendly, intelligent, devoted” “exuberant Scottish gundog” “great beauty” “serious workers at hunting and field work” “enjoy obedience and competitive events” “endearing love of life” “sturdy, muscular” “medium size” “broad head” “friendly and intelligent eyes” “smooth, powerful gait” “feathery tail carried with ‘merry action'” “outgoing, trustworthy, eager-to-please” “joyous and playful” “puppyish behavior into adulthood” “energetic, powerful” “enjoy outdoor play” “swimming and fetching”
WKC – “willing, adaptable, trainable nature” “ideal family dog”

Boxer

Embark – “a Molosser-type dog” “distinctive underbite and strong jaws” “bred as a fighter” “patient and spirited family dogs” “intelligence and energy of their forebearers”
AKC – “bright, fun-loving, active” “loyalty, affection, intelligence, work ethic, good looks” “bright, alert” “sometimes silly” “always courageous” “smooth and graceful, powerful forward thrust” “upbeat and playful” “patience and protective nature” “serious watchdog/guardian”
WKC – “highly intelligent, medium-sized, square, clean lines, balanced proportions” “bred from ancestors in Germany called Bullenbeisers” “fearless but tractable, energetic and wonderfully patient with children” “extremely intuitive” “responsive to his master’s moods” “ideal family dog” “boisterous and clownish” “cherishing toys and family into his oldest age”

Chow Chow

Embark – “an ancient breed probably originated from Mongolia or Siberia”
AKC – “dignified, bright, serious-minded” “muscular, deep-chested aristocrat” “air of inscrutable timelessness” “dignified, serious-minded, aloof”
WKC – “possessive nature” “hunting, herding, pulling, protection”

A Change Would Do Me Good

I’ve been putting off blogging. I’ve also been putting off Christmas shopping, house cleaning, writing of any kind, starting to read a new book (though I’ve been chipping away at Mary Karr’s The Art of Memoir–incisive stuff) along with lots of other things I was already postponing indefinitely on my Remember the Milk task list.

I also forgot it’s almost Christmas in that I scheduled myself for a 9pm tutoring shift on December 20th without bringing something to do upstairs to my designated workstation while waiting for a request. Student needs are much more evident during peak hours and peak parts of the season, which means little to no waiting. Now, not so much. So, I journal, and it happens to work as a blog post. Fancy that.

I’ve been feeling more depressed than usual lately, dealing with the end of my potential to reproduce, a prolonged period of social absence and neglect, injury and illness in connected strings through the fall season, and general feelings of purposelessness. My thoughts are fragmented as I sink back into the lulling pillows of oblivion. Death is close at my heart, but life is elsewhere. A general weepiness follows me around these days. Blah, blah, blah. Pathetic. Woe am I, as that dead-horse thought turns putrid in my brain.

My primary care doctor and I are reluctant to dial up my antidepressants. She said she could recommend a therapist, but she couldn’t think of any good ones during my visit today who were not already retired. It is as if I am retired. Retiring. Too inclined to nap, avoid, escape.

I haven’t been to therapy in more than ten years, not that I wasn’t in head spaces that would have benefited during that time. I’ve seen no counselor or support group since my rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis, which became possible ankylosing spondylitis, which became generalized, or unspecified, spondyloarthritis (inflammation of the spine). At first, I tried to find a local group, but when that didn’t materialize, I admit it: I gave up. The extra pounds and serious mind load I carry also do my musculoskeletal system no favors.

Despite lingering doubts about my capacity to work full-time without exacerbating certain disease processes, I am ready for a change in work. I am ready to work more, and I would like more live human interaction. I am lonely and unfulfilled and without sufficient positive challenges to my mind and skills. I would like to tutor students in person as well as online, to start. It is something I may be able to break into with relative ease and a relatively shorter wind-up period than for other endeavors.

It’s raining and my husband plays indoor soccer while my dog snoozes, curling up with his nose tucked under his ankle and part of his tail. I continue to wait for a tutoring request. . . .

My dog is also clearly ready for me to spend more time away from home. If I’ve accomplished only one thing this year, that is “curing” my new puppy of separation anxiety/isolation distress. He can now stay at home with full access to the first floor for several hours at a time without fuss of any kind. Our diligence, research, and experimentation finally delivered the goods.

We must now continue to socialize him more often, but he’s made tremendous progress in becoming a happy, well-adjusted pup. He’s also not as skittish at home about allowing us to harness him up to go out. With our agility practice heading through its third series of eight weekly training sessions, life can open up for me beyond dog rehab and micromanagement.

Well, no requests so far, at 9:23. Looks like I may get paid for waiting time only, rather than session time. Usually by the quarter hour, something pops through.

At the very least, I’m thinking of redoing The Artist’s Way program starting in January, a dual-purpose source of therapy and regular writing practice. I am attempting to make get-together plans with friends as my in-laws prepare for their winter season in Florida and my parents prepare to spend Christmas in California with my brother’s family. My husband and I will join his folks at his brother’s house again this Christmas Eve for gifts and dinner.

I discovered the Edinburgh Advent Calendar on the Jacquie Lawson greeting card website late in the month, around December 13th, and I have been pouring myself into its gadgety distractions—games, activities, entertaining snippets about the town, and creative forays into various Scottish traditions. That bauble-smashing game is some nice, safe destructive behavior! I bought several of these calendars as gifts for loved ones, too. So what if we pile up a bunch of days in the second half of December? I’ll have to show my mother all the things I have discovered on it that she hasn’t had time to explore. Small flickers of happiness. Thank you, Jacquie Lawson team.

Mom and I attended our monthly book club meeting yesterday, having brought cookies to share from each of us. We had one newish member and eight established folks, including my friend, the moderator, and her husband. Very few of us really enjoyed Sherwood Anderson’s Winesburg, Ohio, a collection of short vignettes of small-town life and its oddball residents. It wasn’t without merit, and I got through it, but it wasn’t a delight, either. Next up is Edith Hamilton’s tome Mythology. Perhaps that will prove to be a source of writer’s inspiration for me. I have much to learn of myth and legend.

9:40 Eastern and still nothing, even from the west coast. . . .

Outlander STARZ Season 4 has been good, but it’s not knocking my socks off as the 2018 San Diego Comicon moderator of the Outlander panel claimed it would. In truth, I’ve enjoyed the show incrementally less and less as the seasons progress. It’s similar to my experience of the books, but I still prefer the books, and I have books 5-9 still to read. Besides, I think my days of genuine obsession over Outlander are long past (though don’t hold me to that!), and I don’t need more of that kind of distraction away from literature, poetry, teaching, writing, and truly living, anyway. I plan to continue dabbling in the books and the TV series on this blog, but I’m interested in too many different things to make it about them exclusively, as my posting history attests.

I’ve also been eating a lot of M&M’s, and it’s showing on my skin. I’m getting that intermittent, ruddy halo rash around my chin (I think it’s the chocolate) and breaking out a little elsewhere. Most of the gifts we’re buying are coming from Amazon, as has become our holiday trend, but I went grocery and stocking stuffer shopping tonight at least. I still have to hide a few of the stuffers I bought: gourmet candy canes and some Pez dispensers for hubby and me. (I’m fairly confident he won’t read this post at all, let alone before December 25th, so no spoilers. Although, frankly, I don’t care much whether surprises are spoiled or not. Gift exchange at the holidays has become a cold, calculating arithmetic of off-setting each other’s expenses for gifts already bought, at least with my family. B’humbug.)

Finally, at 9:42 I had a request, and a brief, mighty fine live session with a 12th grader, proofreading a report. It’s not all bad, after all.

If all goes well, my husband and I will get together with my folks this weekend before I drive them to the airport on Monday, and we’ll have Christmas Day to ourselves after his family’s gathering Christmas Eve. Maybe we’ll catch a movie. Despite a few bumps and bruises, dog hair- and clutter-covered interiors, the aches and pains of aging, Ohio’s cold winter weather, and a chronic inflammatory condition, we can do all that. Our blessings really are legion.

Although I have no words of wisdom from this particular perch, or this hollow, I do wish you all a happy holiday season.

Culling the herd, an original poem

Here’s to a more contemplative, considered, measured Earth Day 2018 (on, around, or far from 4/21), as for all intended days of remembrance, tradition, action, and activism.

Here’s to an antidote to do-something-ism, the arrogance of action for the sake of acting without intelligent, careful thought, patience for information, debunking myths, withholding judgment, uncovering assumptions, probing conventional understanding, and placing a check on emotionalism. Certainty is impossible, but near-certainty must be earned, not used as an excuse or a form of denial beforehand.

Here’s to Earth, to people, to animals, to reason, and to love. To a balanced appetite for details and the big picture. To doubt, to questioning, to human rights, and never killing to punish. To you, if you’re with me on these–if you, too, would cull the herd mentality, whether it claims to come from truth, patriotism, freedom, control, justice, safety, mercy, love, or God.

And here’s a poem of sorts.

Culling the herd    © 2018, Carrie Tangenberg

Sometimes to love animal
 means to love human-animal balance,
 if love is a balanced act of
 compassion, reason, acceptance,
 for human is animal, too.

I couldn’t pull the trigger
 in everyday conditions,
 but I don’t begrudge the hunter,
 farmer, game warden, parks
 ranger, zoo keeper, veterinarian,
 wild survivor, adventurer, 
 conservationist, naturalist,
 lost traveller who may have to,
 want to.

Who am I to stop everything?
 Save everything? Or anything?
 Start something? What exactly and why?
 What is wisdom, wise action here?

Cull the herd, naturally.
 Cull the herd naturally.

What does it mean?
 What is natural? What unnatural?
 Where is the line between?
 And which herd will it be?
 And how?

Curiosity, discovery,
 fascination, wonder, awe,
 anxiety, annoyance, frustration,
 disgust, confusion, amusement,
 anger, sadness, startlement,
 fatigue, and sometimes fear—

These are the feelings
 of living among wild prey
 when one owns a dog
 and a yard with grass
 you don’t want dug up
 by any but yourself,
 and a house built on
 pavement ant pandemic.

But free will is never free,
 never without consequence.
 What if making a difference 
 means doing more harm than good?
 Did you know? Do you? Always? 
 Respect the what-if, at least.

I don’t get squeamish
 reading about creature
 death, butchery, predation,
 and harvesting for food,
 watching wild death
 on TV or the Web, or watching 
 vet shows, trauma, surgeries, 
 sorrows.

I would, I do not like to see
 blood up close, so bright,
 so red, so shiny, fresh, raw.

All it took was a clip
 of the quick on my dog’s
 left back toenail to
 send me into panic
 where I’m usually calm.

It wouldn’t stop bleeding.
 General Chaos conquered.
 It was Easter 2018.

Bleeding eventually stops,
 and so do breeding, foraging,
 fleeing, hiding, sleeping,
 mating, hunting, scavenging,
 migration, habitats, and life.

We can’t stop everything,
 but everything stops, even
 rivers, seas, forests, islands,
 valleys, mountains, plains,
 planets, stars, solar systems.

Even senses, motion, heart,
 brain, growth, and breath.

Even love, even faith, even hope,
 even panic, idiocy, evil, insanity,
 and this listing of word lists.

If this post or poem resonated with you, you may also enjoy:

Five-Phrase Friday (34): Earth Day, Every Day

Call of the Wild Poetry

Five-Phrase Friday (1): The Poetry Politic

Pay Attention

a reblogged post from In Flow

In Flow with Otto

munchow_0949-072.jpgI think all creatives yearn for some kind of success, some kind of recognition for the work we do. Success is maybe not why we photograph, write, paint or travel—or whatever creative activity we do—or ought not to be. The work itself, being creative, is a reward good enough if we only let ourselves not get obsessed with the thought of success. The craving for success can actually get in the way of our creative endeavour.

Nevertheless, we do feel good when we experience some kind of success, whether it’s monetary gain or just some heartfelt feedback from a good friend. I am sure you know what I am talking about.

Success is all in our minds, though. You cannot control how the world will receive and perceive your artistic work, but you can be in command of how you feel about it yourself. If you let yourself feel good…

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Candlelight Vigil for Freedom of Expression at AWP 2017. Corrected commentary.

My commentary–updated with corrections 2/6/17–and a reblogged post (at bottom).

Many have been saying the following and then launching new campaigns of activism. As always, I launch only my considered opinions, research-based (the one statistic I did use and cite needed correcting afterwards–my apologies) views, and best advice, leaving each person to do as conscience dictates.

It has been my aim to avoid politics in large part on my blog, focusing on pre-chosen themes that put art and beauty and positivity first. However, those themes include freedom of expression and opposing censorship, I’m still putting positivity first, and I’ll offer content according to my conscience regardless of trends, mine or others.

We all have choices to make. Wouldn’t it be great if we all kept the freedom to make them?


When executive orders forbid, for instance, federal workers from discussing federal policy, conditions at work, or opinions at all related to their jobs, it is a form of corporate practice as lawful as the conditions of security clearance or signing a confidentiality agreement. It goes with the job. That’s why it’s called an executive branch rather than just “the president”; there’s the Cabinet with 15 departments including Commerce, Defense, Homeland Security, State, Justice, Agriculture, Interior, Environment, Education, Energy, etc., each with subsets of dozens of other organizations such as the FBI, the EPA, and the CIA.

The unreasonable suddenness, logistical difficulty, and accumulation of such orders amounting to a moving target that creates confusion and chaos is another matter for the company to work out within itself, lest its efforts to comply break a host of laws and fracture the Constitution. Even as they comply, federal workers must be cognizant of the consequences of their actions and weigh the risks and benefits of continuing to comply, keeping the conversation open amongst themselves if nothing else.

But there is more to consider in a climate in which the default impulse of the executive–whether he chooses to act on that impulse each time or not–is to rule by unexpected direct order, absolute silencing, intimidation, bullying, bribery, general dismissive belligerence or a combination of these. We must consider that non-federal employees with legitimate, rights-based objections to those or other orders have an even greater obligation than previously, and than their federal fellow citizens, to voice or also enact their objections.

Those included under such an obligation are state-level law enforcement leadership, whose duty it is to oppose, countermand, and, if necessary, arrest federal agents who have little choice but to carry out federal orders regardless of state-level legality or moral rightness. Where refusal to comply is truly untenable, blockage of compliance becomes essential.

The power of the executive branch of the federal government has expanded dangerously over the last several decades, for nearly a century in fact.

Now we see (because we finally choose to pay attention), in more vivid and alarming detail than under previous administrations who also wielded such power with various degrees and kinds of impunity, the threats that unchallenged executive mandates and manipulation pose to a panoply of basic freedoms–to pursue work or education, movement, trade, speech, religion, decisions about one’s own physical body and property, including land, and the ability to ask our State and military leader challenging (or any) questions. The legislative branch, the judicial branch, the states, and everyday citizens all have the obligation to check and nullify those threats.

Speak on, ask on, petition on, fund, litigate, assemble, enjoin, fight for what’s yours, relinquish what is not, pray or abstain, and don’t be intimidated. You’re not alone. No persecuted American left behind. Liberty and justice for all. Keep the conversation going. Debate, question, and prioritize your engagements.

No one has the right not to be offended, but you can choose not to take offense by ignoring non-threats to your freedom and focusing on those things that actually threaten it. In a society in which it has become far too easy to get distracted by inflammatory language and pursue useless tangents, the first order of business in making positive change in your country is to restrain yourself so that your energy is not spent before it can apply to what matters.

To that end, speak but don’t just speak. Think before you speak, choose your words wisely, and move from speech to action to protect your liberty and your neighbor’s. Don’t fight each other; fight the unlawful and abhorrent actions of your government. Show each other the respect, but not without adherence to Constitutional law, that your executive chooses not to show as he flouts the Constitution.

Be brave enough not to panic but to question, find facts, learn, engage, think, object, reconsider, seek alternative views, train your mind, open your heart, think critically, understand, decide, and, when necessary, dissent. That’s freedom. That’s patriotism.

What is not freeing or patriotic is terrorism, which comes in many forms. Since 9/11, we have scared ourselves into creating a less secure and far less free society. Now we are seeing the culmination of that extended, misguided, and misapplied paranoia.

From the Patriot Act forward, starting with Bush Jr., we have made incremental choices to excel at being our own most effective terrorists. We have looked the other way while our government implemented ineffectual laws and programs, and devastating military operations, and continued them under Obama:

the counterproductive bureaucracy of the Department of Homeland Security, the Patriot Act’s negation of habeas corpus and due process, Guantanamo Bay’s remaining open with the resulting unjust detentions, NSA snooping on American citizens, the TSA’s invasive blunders, Benghazi’s wrongful deaths, lack of transparency in leadership, Afghanistan, and drone strikes amounting to undeclared war in Syria and now troops in Yemen, for just the more obvious examples.

The effects–of both these government actions and the people’s acceptance of them–have been gradually eroding our basic freedoms and rights, and increasing our enemies’ hostility towards us, as well as abilities and determination to harm us.

Nothing brings that fact into sharper relief than the election of this president, who now perfectly embodies our terror. The fear has merely been disguised as anger. We must eventually learn and might as well start now: The only response with any chance to reverse this freedom-hating trend is calm, reasoned, organized, and well-applied resistance–first and foremost, to our own worst impulses.

Resist. But: Know why you resist, be clear about what you’re resisting, prioritize what is most important to resist, and learn how to do it more effectively than the government does anything.

Stop looking to centralized government to fix everything. They have proven repeatedly, in both parties, from all angles, that they are unfit to do so. A new executive won’t resolve this; the system itself is unfit, and the wisdom of term limits supports this notion. Being “unfit” may seem unfortunate, but it is not the tragedy. The real misfortune is our continued gullibility in believing they can fix it all as we passively await our deliverance. The corrupt, powerful godheads have led by fear and kept us afraid. In this respect, the federal government is a modern god for those no longer beholden to the earthly bonds of organized religion, a secondary one for those still trapped by it.

The alternative?

Start being responsible for the state of your own citizenship; the least of the actions demonstrating this is voting for a leader or simply attending church regularly. Each of us is the first, best, and only leader of ourselves. Set yourself free, and become the best kind of advocate for fellow citizens without the power to do so. Grow your worth, moral and monetary, to apply to the community in discerning, uncompromised benefit. Transform your anger into loving, positive, freedom-expanding action.

Real liberty is scary, but it is worth everything. Jesus, who sacrificed himself for everyone, understood that. So did Stalin, who sacrificed everyone for himself. Neither way is right or practical for the citizen who must remain strong and vital to serve as a thread in the societal tapestry, lest it all unravel. Neither absolute equality, nor absolute deference, nor totalitarianism will serve. Only generous spirit for uncommonly meaningful and inclusive purpose combined with an educated, well-reasoned will can defeat the frightened sheep–in this externalized form of a stingy, insecure egomaniac–that lives in us all.

Liberty is that inclusive purpose. Liberation is that will enacted. Actual security is an illusion. Actual equality is an illusion. We can choose to put first either freedom or safety, either freedom or equality, but not both. Put safety first, and freedom dies. Put equality first, and freedom dies. In seeking freedom first, we welcome safety and equality; we open the door for both. We can and must choose whether we are our own worst enemies or our own best friends, whether we will stay fearful and overly self-sacrificing or calm and wise.

Protectionism is fearful and unwise–bad for the economy and global relations. Discriminatory application of basic rights by sex, religion or politics is fearful and wrongheaded. Targeting things and people to ban by a scary-sounding name or traditionally suspect nationality is cowardly and stupid. But if you’re going to be that way, at least be consistent. Targeting those things and people while at the same time allowing even more actually suspect ones to travel freely is asinine and completely counterproductive. We seem to have a Joseph McCarthy-like character in the highest office.

However, the illogic of this seemingly arbitrary discrimination is nothing new. Obama’s “higher deportation numbers than those of all 20th-century presidents combined” (questionable claim) at least partly targeted those illegals previously convicted of a crime, though non-criminal ejections (whether mostly returns or removals) have exceeded criminal ones consistently since 2001.¹ See updates to this footnote (in purple). Ousting peaceful but illegal Mexican farmers with non-violent criminal records, and peaceful but legal Shiite Muslim Iranian academics, when the real problem is legal Sunni Muslim Saudi immigrants learning to fly planes into iconic American buildings, is pure bald-faced, idiotic cruelty in the guise of tough do-something-ness.

Furthermore, behaving like an absolute monarch or dictator is fearful, malicious behavior. Supporting only like-minded advisers is infantile and short sighted. Gag orders are fascist–fearful and growth stunting. Acting without thinking, without warning, and without remorse is profoundly malignant, distrusting (fearful), and incredibly foolish. Whether cunning steamroller or bold imbecile, and at times he seems to be both, this president may well be insane. Signs of schizophrenia would not be more disorienting to the observer. (Well, maybe that’s insulting to schizophrenics.) What is certain is that the man is a frightened rabbit with a nest for hair. It would be funny if he were not so dangerous to freedom.

He either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or both. But even if he were a better leader, it would still be up to the people to lead. To each person. Freedom is not free. For free speech, free religion, free choice, freedom over our bodily person, free assembly, free expression, free enterprise, free trade, and free pursuit of happiness, freedom to have a sense of humor or none whatsoever, we have the responsibility to control ourselves: to avoid fraud and falsehood, assemble peacefully and lawfully, invest wisely, refrain from censorship, interact only by mutual consent, permit individuals’ free use of their own minds and bodies, and defend the rights of everyone else to do the same. Live and let live.

Not just Uncle Sam but the people of your country want you. Need you. Facts are indisputable, and this is the plainest fact: Only you can make things better.


¹ Corrected, 2/6/17: See the Pew Research Center’s August 2016 article “U.S. immigrant deportations declined in 2014, but remain near record high,” The Economist‘s February 2014 article “America’s Deportation Machine: The Great Expulsion,” and ABC’s August 2016 article “Obama Has Deported More People Than Any Other President.”

Pew’s chart does not distinguish illegal immigrant returns from removals, both of which have increased fluctuated since the late 90s but together have steadily decreased, according to the Center for Immigration Studies (CIS), since 2004; see the Center for Immigration Studies’ chart spanning 1982-2011.

The CIS reports directly cite the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS)’s own “internal” records as opposed to “packaged press kits.” CIS’s claim is that the DHS numbers used by other sources (such as the 3 above) to report record highs in expulsions were manipulated in unprecedented ways under the Obama administration. Some of this has to do with which agency is doing the ousting (ICE vs. Border Patrol), the actual departed vs. ordered gone status of illegals (order vs. enforcement), and how returns and removals have traditionally been counted.

The Reuters blog reported a total of 414,481 deportations in fiscal year 2014, citing DHS, closer to the annual downward trend shared by CIS. According to their chart referenced above, it appears that President Clinton was the expulsion winner among two-term presidents in recent decades (including Reagan, Bush Jr. and Obama).

I encourage you to seek additional sources beyond those above, to take few things at face value, to challenge the media not to swallow whole everything authority figures tell them, even when quantified and packaged well, and to take this example of the unclear state of reported facts as a lesson in the value of general skepticism, if not that of deeper, nuanced investigation few of us have time to conduct personally. And, thus, to understand the futility and folly of rash, precipitous action based on sound bites taken out of context, half truths that ignore equally relevant truths, and distortions of fact that breed further distortion.

What politician does not spin the facts for his or her own purposes? And, ultimately, what is the government if not political?

Often, our reactions and overreactions prove that we can be puppets in their hands. Take great care and consider that sometimes on certain issues, just maybe, we really do not need to do anything, except wait for the fog to clear. Abstinence, restraint, and calm but alert, steady work make the best, most effective kinds of resistance to the seductive call to chaos.


BREVITY's Nonfiction Blog

March.jpgThe annual Association of Writers and Writing Programs Conference is in D.C. this year, and in fact, it is next week, and this year is starting to look a bit different. Yes there will be books, and yes there will be beer, and chances are good someone at some panel is going to sound pretentious, but in keeping with the times, we have this:

On Saturday, February 11, during the last evening of the AWP Conference & Bookfair, a Candlelight Vigil for Freedom of Expression will be held in Lafayette Square, Washington, DC, which faces the north side of the White House. The vigil is set to begin at 6:15 p.m.

The gathering will include several speakers: Kazim Ali, Gabrielle Bellot, Melissa Febos, Carolyn Forché, Ross Gay, Luis J. Rodriguez, and Eric Sasson.

The group organizing the event writes on their Facebook page: “This basic freedom is threatened in…

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The Dream of Turning 40

My birthday’s gift to you? Getting personal–one day early.


Each time I’ve thought of this coming birthday, I have heard Meg Ryan’s immortal lines:

“And I'm gonna be forty!”
“When?” asks Harry.
“Some day,” Sally adds weakly.
“In eight years!” Harry reasons.
“Yes, but it's just sitting there like this big dead end. . . .”

As with many of my favorite movies, and even ones I don’t like much, I occasionally hear these movie lines from When Harry Met Sally running through my head as I go about my day. These days, this particular record is broken.

Sally wants a family and has just learned that her several months’ ex-boyfriend Joe is engaged. Harry has gone to her place to comfort her. She’s crying rather hysterically, having shown no signs of grief post-breakup. Finally, the bubble has burst, and Harry and Sally’s friendship takes an irrevocable turn.

What’s my point? Lord knows. But isn’t that a great scene? More entertaining than I find everyday life, which is probably why I live in the cinematic fantasy world a significant portion of the time. (Don’t need the video; it’s all memorized.) Besides, the trauma is happening to someone else. I’m comforted, safe, but it also often means the joy and rapture are more likely found elsewhere. What reward without risk?

My eight years have passed, and 32 more besides. That reminds me, I’ve decided to state my age as “ten and thirty,” as in the days of yore. That sounds much more forgiving. Go for it, 60-year-olds! Say, “I am twenty and forty” or “I am twice thirty.” Sounds younger. I got this idea from my husband, who is nearly 14 months younger than I. Very thoughtful, Dear.

No, my husband is a hoot and adorable, and my parents, bless them, still vital and being parents. But I currently have no pets or children to look after (besides the backyard birds), which is the most accepted form of daily joy. No little ones to amuse me each day, which is, of course, the primary function of kids. Right, parents? Well, maybe not “primary,” but it’s mixed in there with all the exhaustion, stress, bewilderment, and worry.

The truth is I’m on the fence about having kids and have been for a while, but the inevitable alarm bells for presumably fertile women go up in volume a few decibels with the introduction of that dreaded digit “4.” No more thirties, not that I’ll miss the years themselves. No more legitimately falling into the young category. I’m entering that middle zone some refer to as “too young to be old and too old to be young.” Sounds like license for a mid-life crisis, for sure. 

But it’s certainly not a mid-reproductive years crisis. No, if it is a crisis or anything like, it’s that we’re coming down to the wire. As Sally Albright says after “this big dead end,” “and it’s not the same for men. Charlie Chaplin had babies when he was 73.” Harry replies: “Yeah, but he was too old to pick ’em up.” Sally starts to laugh but it returns to sobs.

Generally, women who want children and haven’t found a mate by their mid- to late-30s have more cause for mid-life crisis than men do, but science and evolution give us hope for higher numbers of fertile years and higher survival rates amidst high-risk pregnancies and complications of childbirth. Risk is always there, and danger still increases with age, but the 21st century is patient with late bloomers, whereas even as recently as 150 years ago, unmarried women past their twenties were already doomed to spinsterhood.

Risks and rewards come in many forms, and mean different things for different people. We as a society seem to believe we have no right to seek, let alone expect, healthy challenge or happiness in work or marriage itself or travel or the arts, especially not instead of in reproducing. Shouldn’t we take growth and joy everywhere we can get them?

You might think it depends on whether you’re passive or active in the “getting.” Actively seeking seems more honorable somehow, more adult, more enlightened than waiting for manna from heaven, as if we’re helpless, inert, ineffectual, and faithfully convinced of it. I.e., sheep.

Two movies intercede here. The Sound of Music and She’s Having a Baby, another 80s gem. “The Reverend Mother says you have to look for your life,” Maria tells Captain Von Trapp. And: “What I was looking for was not to be found but to be made,” says Jefferson Edward (“Jake”) Briggs of his wife and newborn son. Love that John Hughes.

Yet, even when we look for and make a life, nothing that results is absolutely great or horrible. Just as important as the issue of seeking actively or passively is to weigh the potential risks and rewards together.

For me, added risks come with carrying and birthing a child. Greatest of these besides age is that, due to inflammatory arthritis, any pregnancy would be considered by clinicians to be “high risk” from the start. I can imagine, have imagined the possible rewards as I watched my friends expand their families and now watch their eldest become teenagers. I’ve made my mental pros and cons lists and thought about all the right and wrong reasons and good and bad ways to have children. I’ve assessed our suitableness for parenthood and the question of passing on hereditary health conditions. Most important, after all that careful consideration and consultation, though, is to feel the desire rise above fear and doubt.

But whatever ends up touching us, however strangely or improbably it happens, however deliberately, desperately, or passionately we reach for it, there it is. It can either be good or bad for us, or both. We receive the good with the bad whether or not we want either of them.

The universe presents good, bad, worse, and better to us sometimes as options from an à la carte menu. The tongs grab the casual sex instead of the terrifying emotional chemistry that means risking great loss. Single woman will take slavery to meddling, co-dependent mother with side of slaw, instead of daunting freedom of looking for life, with unsweetened iced tea. But we always get a full plate. Another memorized movie brings the idea to a head:

“I have this theory of convergence that good things always happen with bad things, and I mean, I know you have to deal with them at the same time, but I don’t know why . . . . I just wish I could work out some sort of schedule. Am I babbling? Do you know what I mean?”

An enamored Lloyd Dobler replies, “No.”

But I got it perfectly! “Diane Court, whoa.” Genius of 1988, valedictorian of the class in Say Anything . . . Weren’t the 80s golden for rom-coms? She finds love just when her father’s life is falling apart. She can’t pick and choose. They both descend unbidden, and neither is going away any time soon. So she does the logical thing and pushes away the good out of loyalty to her lying, thieving father.

We do that sometimes—make self-sabotaging choices, afraid of happiness, scared of the sin of it, especially as others suffer, whether we play any role in their suffering or not. It feels wrong to be happy when loved ones are not. Fortunately . . . perhaps, Diane rights herself, rejecting Dad for Lloyd. The ending is open ended.

Love does not guarantee happiness; the opposite is more likely. But that doesn’t mean we should shun love. Pain is a powerful teacher. Once in a while, we learn something valuable to apply to the future.

Oh so much wisdom can be found in film. Our movie and TV heroes show us how we stumble and how to recover. They demonstrate how it’s done. The best stories at least hint at the fact that it’s an ongoing process, until it’s not.

If we’re lucky, we get to choose to embrace life or embrace death. “Get busy living, or get busy dying,” says Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption. Even more fortunate is the blessing of joy in this life. We may make our own happiness. We can certainly try.

Failing that, we can preserve our sense of wonder, mystery, beauty, or hope, even when rapture is out of reach. Even when disability, disease, injury, mistakes, conflict, or loss seems to mock our reaching.

In truth, fortune is fickle, and navigating it takes effort and patience, of initiative and waiting and recovery, and, for some, of praying. It really does seem to be all about the balance.

Whether equilibrium or tipped scales, the balance holds all. A 40-year-old can wobble like a toddler in heart or mind or body. A six-year-old can dispense ancient wisdom effortlessly. A 90-year-old can cut through the bullshit with razor sharpness. Nothing is completely as we might assume. Expect to have your expectations defied.

When you do, the likelihood of it may just increase. Sometimes a taste of the possibilities outside convention opens up the horizon like a star exploding. It’s messy, destructive even, but creative, too. We are all more resilient than we suppose, more capable of renewal and starting fresh after a fall or fallout or the numbing effects of time. I must remember this.

I think about death a lot, particularly my own, and not just because it’s my birthday. I expect to be struck down at any moment, much of the time. Especially any time I get in a car. I don’t really fixate; I just let the thoughts meander through. There’s little to stop them. Sometimes, I think I focus on death as a way to force myself to embrace life more vehemently. Losing grandparents, aunts, uncles, former classmates, and friends hasn’t done the trick. The terror does not yield to carpe diem, and some darkness lingers.

Losing the dog last February, however, brought new emptiness, which I greedily filled with guilty pleasures and renewed ambitions. Seen another way, I dusted myself off and kept going. However, along with vigorous effort and focus comes not just hope, but expectation.

We have no right to expect positive outcomes just because we are open to them or want them or reach for them or demand them. But while we’re here, we might as well try to build and enjoy something that is ours. Few will remember us for long after we’re gone, and eons from now, no one will.

Nowadays, almost as much as I think about death, I wonder about having kids, and my husband and I discuss it periodically (no, not monthly). The questions arise, along with the concerns. Answers are few and indefinite. In short, neither desire nor aversion has yet won.

People like to say, “It’s never too late,” but frankly, for everything, one day it will be. The line cavalierly sanctions procrastination of major life decisions. It’s little different from “There’s always tomorrow,” but that may truly never come, and one day, it just won’t. Do now, be now. All we know for sure is now. Do what, you ask? What is most true to yourself. This notion has become a trend and may now be somewhat out of fashion.

I’ve read my share of self-help books, most before the age of 30, and some have pearls of wisdom I’ve tucked away. You may know one that says, “Your mission in life is where your deep joy and the world’s deep hunger meet.” (I won’t say which one; I’m promoting movies, not books, today.) In reading these, and favoring this quote, I’ve trained myself to be alert to my inner truth and its expression, and it seems to be working as I work. I don’t seek out those kinds of books anymore; too many better options await my attention.

If we all cop out or settle to some degree and at some point, or even if only most of us do, it’s no great tragedy. On the other hand, if we ignore our soul’s longing completely, it may not be a mortal sin, but it could become a terminal regret. My fear of regret keeps me asking important questions such as, How can I make the most of my life? What am I meant to do?

Like today, even tomorrow may be nothing but a dream. In that case, I choose to embrace the dream, and the dreams within it. I’ve made it this far. I survived. I fulfilled the dream of turning 40. It’s a milestone, a benchmark, a signpost, a weigh station (I try not to stop at those). As if life is an aging contest or some sort of race to the finish, as if the finish line were not death itself.

Age is a sort of accomplishment in our culture. For people with, say, a terminal illness or violent household, this may well be true. Obviously, war-torn countries are so described because of death and maiming, where celebrating survival may become almost necessity. Still, in places and times of relative peace, we celebrate birthdays from year one forward, and in weeks and months before that. When birthdays are used to celebrate life and becoming, it makes sense to add some hoopla.

Otherwise, encountering another year really isn’t much of an achievement. This time, a song borrows the old adage: “Wisdom doesn’t follow just because you’ve aged.” Experience doesn’t guarantee learning. “Been there, done that” doesn’t mean you’re really any better off than someone who hasn’t. So don’t gloat so much, old fogie.

I’m certainly not done yet, not done trying to “fulfill” my “potential.” At some point, you’ve got to deliver, Dodo-head, or find yourself going the way of the dodo. And who would mourn the loss? The inability to evolve, to persevere, maintain a foothold on earth, on behalf of your species? To represent! I always feel that pressure to achieve, to make a difference, to leave a legacy, but with long-term pressure, I risk overcooking.

One side of you is saying, “And so you should.” And perhaps: “How selfish of you, how typical, to lament the inevitable passage of time, to make excuses for not using yours wisely. More selfish still, just spending (wasting) the time thinking about it because you ‘have the time’ to do so.” That’s my projected criticism from all those busy family people my age who don’t have such a “luxury,” the disapproval from the other voices in my head.

Why do I choose to look at it this way? Is that motivating? Even with these last quote marks, my defiance comes through. “I am what I am and that’s all that I am,” says Popeye. It’s a defiance to convention, conformity, being ordinary. It’s an insistence on forgiving myself for not being perfectly healthy, at my ideal weight, in shape, and bursting with energy while also juggling two jobs, a home, and children. Besides, I do juggle many parts of a busy life.

I defy contempt for privilege, I defy the progressive insistence that moral rightness means impoverishing oneself in the name of equality, and I defy the stigma and misconceptions about writers’ and artists’ lives. I could do office work, and I have done lots of it. I could do manual labor if I really, really had to, but I don’t. Now I work to be an artist, I teach for some income, and, thanks to my husband, I’m not starving. There, I said it.

Of course I would consider writing about, which requires dwelling upon, turning 40. I am a writer. And what’s more, a writer in a culture accustomed to celebrating and obsessing about birthdays. I’ve often thought that I am better suited to life as a free-wheeling scholar from the Age of Enlightenment or something than to traditional, modern-era work. Rather than snub the blessing, I embrace the chance to be just that kind of scholar and writer, while still working toward greater individual contributions to our income.

I usually try to keep my defiance in check in my writing, never wanting to seem too selfish, self-righteous, self-absorbed, too forthright, feminist, emotional, emotionalist, or otherwise stereotypically female, except in jest. But also because I claim a cherished penchant for reason and logic. True, the suppression is a bit neurotic, but, hey, awareness is the first step.

I really like that first step. I walk it all the time. It’s an infinite loop, as though I have one leg much shorter than the other and am walking in circles. Selfish –> anxious about it –> neurotic about anxiety –> selfishly neurotic. It’s oh so productive.

Suppressing defiance or anger, though, just comes across as being cold, rigid, emotionally distant, or, perhaps worse, dishonest. Unlikely I’m fooling anyone but me.

Defiance leaks out, anyway, eventually, in other contexts, the rest that I have—tutoring, friends, family. I’m human and American. Overall, I like to think my students and loved ones are pleased with me despite my egocentric leanings. (I would say that, wouldn’t I?)

Maybe I shouldn’t try so hard to defy expectation and to be different. The effort has become its own sort of tedious convention. Those who know me have come to expect it. Who, in the end, is truly 100 percent original? We are creatures of habit, pattern, and imitation. Relax a little when faced with things you really can’t change. Do everything in moderation, even moderation. Let loose on occasion. Balance.

And so, I revel in the riches of imagination, in all its forms, mediums, shapes, and colors. “God is in the rain,” says Evey Hammond in V for Vendetta. In nature, in reverie, in reflection. That’s where God lives for me. Where I can find something of grace, of beauty, of serenity, invigoration, balance. It is my universe. I can touch it, see it, hear it, taste it, examine it, love or hate it, reject or accept it.

We all need ways to shelter ourselves from the certainty of death, at least long enough to invest in our lives and to dream new dreams. The only soul I have to live with is this living, sensing one. I mean to do right by it. Invest in the balance, and then, “wait and hope,” as the Count of Monte Cristo says. And smile.

My new dream? Only one of many: the chance to see how I feel about all this at age 50. What of effort, deepest joy, money, ego, pain, employment, God, imagination, kids, limits, convention, neurosis, the world’s hunger, potential, balance, or wisdom then? I hope I’ll see–and hear those movie lines calling.


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graduate school graduation, age 31, or “ten and 21”

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Who might you be otherwise?

“I was reflecting, in the first place,” replied Dantès, “upon the enormous degree of intelligence and ability you must have employed to reach the high perfection to which you have attained. What would you not have accomplished if you had been free?”

[The abbé replies] “Possibly nothing at all; the overflow of my brain would probably, in a state of freedom, have evaporated in a thousand follies; misfortune is needed to bring to light the treasures of the human intellect. Compression is needed to explode gunpowder. Captivity has brought my mental faculties to a focus; and you are well aware that from the collision of clouds electricity is produced—from electricity, lightning, from lightning, illumination.”

– from The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, Vol. 1, Ch. 17, “The Abbé’s Chamber”


True or false?