January 09, 2009
OFF LEASH: On non-meat
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
It was Samuel Johnson who said that "a cucumber should be well-sliced, dressed with pepper and vinegar, and then thrown out." He is, I believe, correct, and I would further extend that claim to any and all vegetables including, but not limited to, carrots and potatoes.
The same goes for pancakes, which I recently and regrettably sampled. They were being prepared on the stove in a fashion similar to chicken. I thought, not unreasonably, that they might likewise be delectable. I was wrong.
I immediately spat out the flour-and-egg concoction and looked up with an expression that could only be interpreted thusly: Bring on the sausages.
Posted by teb at 12:16 PM | Email this entry
August 28, 2008
OFF LEASH: On hints
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Look, I know everyone is busy. There's work to be done, a baby to take care of, a house to clean, etc. The promise of modernity – i.e., that it would free humanity from mindless drudgery and lead to nearly unlimited leisure – was nothing more than a cruel hoax. I get that.
But when you see me near the back door, spinning in circles, whimpering anxiously, and doing a little four-legged tap dance on the hardwood floor, I'm trying to tell you something. Something very simple. Something that should not even need to be stated. But let me state it anyway:
I need to go out. Right now.
So if you could turn the knob for me, that would be great. If, you know, it's not too much trouble. Thanks a bunch.
Posted by teb at 11:03 AM | Email this entry
July 23, 2008
OFF LEASH: On teamwork
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
So far the baby – if that is still the correct term for the small, bipedal being who sometimes “pets” me by vigorously tugging my ears – has proven of limited use. He cannot, for example, open the pull-tab on a can of ALPO Beef Selects. Or take me to the park. Or do much else of interest.
But he can, as it turns out, open the backyard gate. I learned this recently when he, of his own accord, flipped the latch, permitting me to dash out, down the driveway and across the street where -- surprised by my sudden freedom -- I happily peed.
Of course I returned. And now that this security flaw has been exposed it will no doubt be remedied. Still, it’s nice to have an ally.
Posted by teb at 12:13 PM | Email this entry
May 08, 2008
OFF LEASH: On sleep
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I am a heavy sleeper. Each evening around midnight, I find a spot, usually on the living-room floor, and I make it my bed. I don't circle three times like most dogs; that is waste of time and energy, not to mention stupid.
Instead I flop down, sans ceremony, and lapse into coma-like state. During this time, you can step over me, rustle magazines, turn on and off the light. I don't care. I am sleeping. Do as you please.
In the morning, however, I am attuned to the sounds indicating that a walk is imminent. The turn of the knob. The rattle of the leash. It's odd how certain stimuli elicit such a strong reaction. Pavlovian, even.
Posted by teb at 04:24 AM | Email this entry
February 15, 2008
OFF LEASH: On age
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Age is not, as has often been stated, just a number. My age, for example, is unknown. Seven? Ten? Older? No one knows.
But this much is certain: I'm no puppy. While less-mature dogs pursue their tails tirelessly, I prefer to wile away my days on the couch, or the rug next to the radiator.
Which is not to say that I don't have my moments of youthful exuberance. Like just before my walk in the morning. Or when chicken is being served. Or when the UPS guy arrives mid-morning, interrupting my nap, and rings the doorbell, forcing me to snarl like a starved, taunted Doberman with a taste for blood and an appetite for human flesh.
You're never too old for that.
Posted by teb at 11:31 AM | Email this entry
December 06, 2007
OFF LEASH: On Dogster
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
In this morning's New York Times, there is an article about Dogster, a social networking site for dogs. Most people, no doubt, will see this site as a cute diversion. "Oh look! Mr. Fluffers has his own web page! How precious!"
I, however, view it as yet another example of the mindless personification of canines. We are not people; we are dogs. If you wish to waste your time "friending" total strangers, or giving each other virtual "pokes," then that's your business. But leave us out of it.
Okay, fine. Go here if you want to leave me a virtual bone or become my "pup pal." I give up.
Posted by teb at 11:01 AM | Email this entry
October 04, 2007
OFF LEASH: On books
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
So now I read that the Pope's cat, Chico, has written a book. This is not the first time that a book has been written from a celebrity pet’s point of view. Barbara Bush’s dog Millie pawed out a tome, as did Paris Hilton’s Chihuahua, among others.
Seriously, is there anything more saccharine, more sickeningly precious, more flat-out nauseating than someone writing from the point of view of his or her pet? Yeah, we get it, you really love your dog/cat/whatever. And you think it’s SO FUNNY to pretend like a non-verbal animal has literary skill. All your commonplace observations and descriptions of the banal are suddenly infused with comic potential.
Yes, yes. Ha ha.
Also: where's my book deal already?
Posted by teb at 12:54 PM | Email this entry
September 21, 2007
OFF LEASH: On gates
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
The recent installation of so-called "baby gates" in the house has led to an unhappy consequence, namely the restriction of my room-to-room movement. Where previously I could, for example, go from the living room to the den, look around, then return to the living room and then, after several minutes, go back to the den, now I cannot. I must pick one or the other.
This constraint may strike some as trivial. What's so great about the den? Why not just stay in the living room? But as soon as one accepts such seemingly inconsequential impingements on one's ability to egress at will, suddenly more oppressive measures appear less unreasonable. Next thing you know you're spending your nights in the laundry room. The slope has been greased.
Which is why I poke my nose through the bars, look up with my big watery eyes, and make a sound that could not fail to arouse pity in even the most hardened of hearts. Works every time.
Posted by teb at 10:50 AM | Email this entry
August 01, 2007
OFF LEASH: On silver linings
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
The addition of a small, grabby human to the household has been a source of not-insignificant annoyance in recent months. He will, for example, crawl over to me while I am sleeping and begin slapping on my back with both hands as if I am a cheap bongo and he is the travel-sized reincarnation of John Bonham.
Recently, however, this Puller of Ears and Disturber of Naps has taken to dropping little bits of food on the floor. Some cheese, say, or a couple of Cheerios. Sometimes this is unintentional. Other times he appears to do it in order to amuse himself. Regardless of his motivation, this has provided me with numerous unexpected snacking opportunities -- what one might call "manna from highchair."
I suppose the takeaway here is that one must learn to take the bad with the good, the tail grabbing with the morsel tossing. I just hope they start giving the little man steak.
Posted by teb at 10:42 AM | Email this entry
April 27, 2007
OFF LEASH: On wagging
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
The most e-mailed story on the New York Times website is about dogs. Specifically, it's about the tails of dogs and what their wagging means. Here's the gist: wagging to the right means the dog is happy; wagging to the left means the dog is nervous. For some reason, this takes 1,200 words to explain.
But the researchers have overlooked an important phenomenon, one that may hold the key to understanding the emotions of dogs. I'm speaking, of course, about helicopter tail. When I'm very happy, my tail rotates in a circular pattern, as if my hindquarters were attempting to fly. This often occurs just prior to my morning walk, when I am nearly overcome with anticipation. It also happens whenever I am given meat (which, by the way, is not often enough).
What does this mean? Why does my tail wag like that? How happy am I? Heck, that's a dissertation right there. Just be sure to cite me.
Posted by teb at 12:44 PM | Email this entry
March 30, 2007
OFF LEASH: On moderation
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Cicero advises us to let moderation be our guide. The Roman lawyer and orator has plenty of illustrious company: Moderation has long been promoted and praised by sages and scolds alike. Excess is rarely held up for applause.
I suppose everyone is right. And yet, when presented with an unexpected treat -- leftover chicken breast, say, or a chewy sirloin -- I tear into said morsel with ravenous abandon. I eat like a roadside mongrel. I consume and consume, taking each bite with an enthusiasm equal to the one before. If I have a limit, a point at which I will declare "no más, no más," it has yet to be reached.
Have I fallen prey to my baser instincts? Have I failed to exercise temperance in the face of temptation? Perhaps. On the other hand, life short, meat good. More please.
Posted by teb at 01:00 PM | Email this entry
March 07, 2007
OFF LEASH: On looking back
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
In my more than 50 columns, I have addressed many of the pressing issues of our day, such as liberty, nature, prejudice, napping, kindness, patience, and squirrels.
I have quoted Cato the Elder, Benjamin Franklin, Henry David Thoreau, William James, P.T. Barnum, Bertrand Russell, Goethe, Lucretius, Eleanor Roosevelt, Horace Greeley, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Jacques Maritain and Alan Greenspan.
I have confessed my shortcomings and pointed out those of others. I have complained bitterly and mused innocently. I have tripped the light fantastic.
I have also, in one case, stitched together a column out of nothing more than references to past columns. Some might call this intellectual laziness. To which I would respond: woof.
Posted by teb at 11:05 AM | Email this entry
January 19, 2007
OFF LEASH: On liberty
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Goethe once said that the average man does not want to be free -- he just wants to be safe. (His use of the term "man" here is consistent with the speciesism of his era and should not be held against him.)
The truth of the German polymath's aphorism was brought home to me recently while out on a walk. My collar had been loosened inadvertently the day before and, when I jerked excitedly toward an intriguing scent, it fell from my neck. For a moment, I experienced utter disenthrallment: no leash, no fences, no boundaries. I could, in theory, run in any direction for as long as I wished. I was free.
And, yet, I did not run. Rather, I stood absolutely still until my collar was returned to my neck. We finished our walk, had breakfast, and I curled up on the couch for my morning nap. Say what you like, liberty is totally overrated.
Posted by teb at 10:48 AM | Email this entry
December 15, 2006
OFF LEASH: On noises
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Yesterday the bell on the toaster sounded and I immediately tucked my tail firmly betwixt my legs and cowered in the nearest available corner, where I remained for a solid five minutes.
Why did I do this? That's a fine question. Here's my answer: I do not know. Why, indeed, am I terrified of crinkly plastic bags? Or of the sudden rip of a Velcro fastener? I cannot say.
It's not as if I'm terrified of everything. If a stranger approaches the door, I will bark like a ferocious mongrel with a jones for human flesh. Big trucks get the same treatment, as do people on skateboards (I really, really hate skateboards).
But crinkle a bag in my vicinity and I turn into a 55-pound baby. I can't explain it. Though, as someone once said: Fear is in the ear of the belistener.
Well, I am someone.
Posted by teb at 11:07 AM | Email this entry
December 01, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the couch
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
When I first came to live here, I slept on the floor. Usually I would seek out the quietest corner, far away from people and cats.
Later, I became more bold, choosing to sleep on the rug in the kitchen or in the middle of the living room. People would step over me and I wouldn't care.
Then I discovered the couch. At first, I was tentative; as soon as anyone came into the room I would jump down and try to look innocent.
These days the couch is more or less mine. Sure, I'll get down if there's a good reason -- a meaty treat, say, or an impending walk. But mostly I just lie there, as sleeping dogs tend to do.
Posted by teb at 11:26 AM | Email this entry
November 17, 2006
OFF LEASH: On walking
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Yesterday, for reasons I do not fully understand, I did not get my morning walk. In the last two years, the number of times I have gone un-walked can be counted on two paws. It is, in other words, an extremely infrequent occurrence.
Now I am sure there was a solid justification for forgoing this daily and much-looked-forward-to ritual. Perhaps there simply wasn't time. I should point out, however, that my walk usually takes about twenty minutes, which isn't that much when you consider there are 24 hours in a day. In fact you'd think twenty minutes could always be spared, but apparently not. There must be other, more important activities, such as staring at The Box That Glows or speaking into The Stick That Rings.
Hey, whatever. I understand. It's cool. Forget it. I don't mind. Seriously. It's not a problem.
Just don't let it happen again.
Posted by teb at 11:11 AM | Email this entry
October 20, 2006
OFF LEASH: On water
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Stolen waters are sweet, the Bible tells us, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.
Now, I have no particular fondness for bread no matter where it’s consumed. But I do prefer “stolen” water, i.e., water that is somewhere other than in my bowl. In the gutter, for instance, or in a garbage can's upturned lid. Why is this? After all, my bowl is filled with cold, filtered water while the water outside is tepid, stagnant and swimming with disease.
Perhaps it's the allure of the forbidden, as the verse implies, or the simple pleasure of the unexpected. I don't know. But if the vigorous yanking on my leash is any indication, my predilection for dirty water is neither appreciated nor condoned. Not that this does much to stop me -- I'm just noting it for the record.
Posted by teb at 09:33 AM | Email this entry
October 13, 2006
OFF LEASH: On suckers
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
There is, P.T. Barnum is credited with opining, one born every minute. This would mean 1,440 of them are born a day, 525,600 per annum. Whether this calculus is correct I, of course, cannot be sure.
I am, however, certain they exist. I know this because one of them has been a guest in my house for the last week. I need only look at her with big, sad eyes and a treat will soon appear. I need only stand near her in the kitchen and a piece of chicken or turkey will be placed in my mouth.
You might think that, after a while, I would feel guilty taking advantage of such a soft-hearted (headed?) person. But that is when one must remember the words of that great cigar-chomping philosopher W.C. Fields: Never give a sucker an even break.
Posted by teb at 10:02 AM | Email this entry
October 06, 2006
OFF LEASH: On indecision
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
There is nothing more miserable, William James once said, than indecision. Bertrand Russell deemed indecision the height of exhaustion and futility.
I think Billy and Bertie were right on. And yet there are times in life when one is pulled firmly in opposing directions -- for instance, when it is raining and I have to pee. I hate and fear the rain, yet I have to pee. What do I do?
I was presented with just such a dilemma this morning. The first two times the door was opened, I declined to go in the yard -- even though I really, really wanted to. The third time, however, I forced myself to trot out, quickly do my business, and return. My need to pee trumped my fear of rain.
Afterwards, I shook myself dry and resumed my cowering.
Posted by teb at 10:41 AM | Email this entry
September 29, 2006
OFF LEASH: On appearances
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
All of us present an image to the world. "This," we say, "is how I wish to be seen."
It's not the truth, of course. And it's not a lie either -- at least not exactly. It's more like a convenient, necessary fiction.
On that note, allow me to direct your attention to my new mugshot. Nice, no? I think it captures the fact that I love pretty much everybody. And by "pretty much everybody" I do not mean the FedEx guy whom, given time and opportunity, I would certainly devour.
Posted by teb at 12:09 PM | Email this entry
September 22, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the baby
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Earlier this week, while on my morning walk, a neighbor called out: "Hey, what does Fiddler think of the new baby?" This question has arisen with surprising frequency since the little bundle's arrival this month, so let me address it here.
Initially I was disturbed by the astonishing decibel level of the baby's high-pitched cries, causing me to pace from room to room and emit concerned, high-pitched noises of my own. After a few days, however, my agitation diminished. Now, when the baby sounds distressed, I attempt to lick his feet. Or the back of his head. Or pretty much whatever part of him is currently exposed. This soothing technique seems mostly ineffective, despite my enthusiastic and tireless efforts.
So, in short, I like the baby just fine. Though I would like him more if he could reach the bag of treats.
Posted by teb at 11:07 AM | Email this entry
September 15, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the Muttawa
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Saudi Arabia's religious police, called the Muttawa, recently banned the sale of dogs, saying that they -- we -- are unclean.
Unclean? Unclean! How dare ... okay, maybe I am a little unclean. You'd get dirty, too, if you rolled around in wet grass, dug furious holes in the dirt and bathed, say, once a month -- if that. My fear of running water makes bathing an unpleasant prospect. But, for the record, I do lick myself pretty thoroughly. Some might argue that my saliva is not technically "clean" but that's just semantics.
It should be noted that the sale of cats has also been banned. While this action has been criticized as well, I am trying to keep an open mind. Maybe the Muttawa has a point there.
Posted by teb at 10:40 AM | Email this entry
August 25, 2006
OFF LEASH: On feelings
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Feelings, someone once said, are not logical. If someone hasn't said that, someone should, because it's very true.
Note, for example, my extreme fondness for the fluffy white dog down the street. Whenever I see the fluffy white dog, I whine insistently, begging to get closer. Why? This dog shows no particular interest in me. Or take my passionate hatred of skateboards. If someone rides past our house on a skateboard, I act as if I want to tear the skateboarder limb from limb. Why? The skateboarder means me no harm.
I could continue, citing my hatred of garbage men or how I love to drink stagnant rainwater, but I think my point has been made. I see no reason to continue. Besides, I don't feel like it.
Posted by teb at 09:29 AM | Email this entry
August 11, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the new dog
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
There is a new dog in the neighborhood. Her name is Charlotte. We met one morning earlier this week. We sniffed noses. We sniffed butts. We rubbed up against each other, as is customary during such introductions. This went on for a minute or so without incident.
Then, sans warning, she attacked me. I responded in kind (what else could I do?) and we engaged in a brief yet spirited struggle that ended only when we were forcibly separated. Charlotte was then dragged back inside her house and I continued on my walk, agitated but uninjured.
What to make of this initial encounter? Inauspicious, to be sure. But perhaps, at heart, Charlotte is a friendly dog and this was simply an aberration. I hope so. That said, I will be considerably less sanguine in the future about letting her sniff my butt.
Posted by teb at 10:54 AM | Email this entry
August 04, 2006
OFF LEASH: On ethics
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Daily life is replete with ethical quandaries. These are not the well-worn examples trotted out in philosophy classes involving, say, two men clinging to a raft that can only support one of them. No, these are more trivial and yet also more relevant.
For instance, sometimes I am served two dinners. Perhaps there has been some miscommunication between the people who feed me. Or perhaps it has been decided that, on a given day, for reasons unknown yet potentially valid, I am deserving of a second dinner. There is no way to be sure.
How, then, should I respond? I could refuse to eat the second dinner, of course. But my refusal might be interpreted as ingratitude -- and that's the last thing I'd want. Also, I tend to err on the side of eating.
Posted by teb at 10:44 AM | Email this entry
July 21, 2006
OFF LEASH: On crazy old men
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
During a recent walk I was approached by a crazy old man. He babbled something about how he doesn't like dogs "doing their business" around the neighborhood. Throughout his brief, confusing rant, he waved his arms around like crazy old men are wont to do. When he was finished, he turned around and left -- presumably returning to his crazy old man lair.
Now, if he was referring to dogs that run loose in our neighborhood and defecate indiscriminately -- point taken. But whenever I go for a walk, someone follows me with a plastic bag to collect, as it were, the evidence. Also, I stay away from flower beds and lawns, instead doing "my business," as he euphemistically put it, on grassy medians.
So to crazy old men everywhere I would like to say the following: Remember to take your meds. Or, if you don't have any, by all means go get some. And stop waving your arms around like that; you're liable to hurt yourself.
Posted by teb at 10:02 AM | Email this entry
July 07, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the importance of rest
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Horace Greeley once said that the word "rest" was not in his vocabulary. This was, no doubt, simply the self-aggrandizing bluster of a hyperactive newspaperman. All that bootstrap-pulling must have tuckered him out on occasion.
Still, Greeley's quote hints at a particularly American disdain for relaxation. We must be, or at least appear to be, productively engaged at all times or risk being deemed worthless sluggards. We must always be going, even if we're not sure where. We must always be busy, even if we're not sure why.
This is, in a sense, commendable. But there is something to be said for flopping down in a sunbeam, curling up next to the bed, or napping contentedly on the porch. The couch is good, too – just don't let anyone catch you up there.
Posted by teb at 11:02 AM | Email this entry
June 30, 2006
OFF LEASH: Down with the King
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Next door to us lives a three-year-old Boxer named King. He is a muscular, energetic dog who wears a harness and seems to drag his owner down the street. Another neighbor, who is not fond of King, refers to him as Mr. Snarls -- an accurate nom de growl.
While normally aggressive toward other dogs, King does not bare his teeth at me. Rather, he whimpers and lunges. He seems pleased to see me. Very pleased. Inappropriately so.
I have not consciously encouraged this attention, though perhaps I should have been more firm from the beginning. King, let me be clear: It's not going to happen. I'm sorry. You will have to look elsewhere for your queen.
Posted by teb at 10:20 AM | Email this entry
June 23, 2006
OFF LEASH: The door incident
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I've mentioned before that I am frightened by thunderstorms. My level of fear ranks somewhere between neurosis and psychosis, a debilitating terror that leaves me shaking, drooling, and unresponsive to non-thunder stimuli. It is quite a sight.
Last night a thunderstorm passed through. As usual, I stood outside the bedroom door and whimpered. Let me note here that the bedroom door is made of wood and thick glass; it opens and closes on a sliding track. Last night my terror was so intense that I decided to push open the door with my head, snapping a plastic guide in the process. In other words, I broke the door.
This, of course, was not my intention. I only wanted to be where it seemed to me most safe. Still, let me just say: My bad.
Posted by teb at 10:41 AM | Email this entry
June 16, 2006
OFF LEASH: On nature
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Nature has inspired many terrible poems. Tributes to trees, soliloquies to stars, paeans to posies. It's enough to make you want to stay indoors.
And yet, as the weather grows warmer, even a cynic has to be a little impressed by all the blossoming wonder. That's true even on the outskirts of a big city, where ambulances cry by and street lights obscure the stars.
Paradise isn't entirely paved, at least not yet. There is still plenty around here on which to gaze, to sniff, and to pee.
Posted by teb at 10:48 AM | Email this entry
June 09, 2006
OFF LEASH: On The Dog Whisperer
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Dogs are not people. This pedestrian insight has made Cesar Millan, also known as "The Dog Whisperer," a rich and famous man. In each episode of his popular television program, Cesar and his ruly goatee scold some hapless dog owner for failing in one of his/her dog-owning duties. He then magically resolves the issue as the camera crew captures said dog owner's grateful, slack-jawed reaction.
Cesar does for dogs what that chubby British nanny does for brats. This is all perfectly fine and makes for better-than-average cable TV viewing (a limbo bar, to be sure). Malcolm Gladwell has given him the full golly-you-sure-are-a-genius! treatment in The New Yorker. Even Oprah likes him -- and we know she won't fall for just anything.
So, Cesar, hats off to you, my friend. Just one thing: Stay away from me with your doggie voodoo.
Posted by teb at 06:35 PM | Email this entry
June 02, 2006
OFF LEASH: On voyeurism
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I was sniffing a potato chip recently when I was reminded of a quote from the humorist James Thurber. "Seeing is deceiving," he said once. “It's eating that's believing.”
How true. I often watch people as they eat. My eyes follow their forks down to their plates, up to their mouths, and back down again. My ears stand at attention. My tail wags and twirls. My mouth waters and even overflows, leaving tiny puddles on the hardwood floors. It is a painful pastime, an exquisite torture.
And yet, upon closer inspection, I frequently find that what they are eating is not chicken or beef but pasta, steamed vegetables, or some other food in which I have little interest. This is a severe, almost intolerable disappointment. Not to say I won't eat some pasta or vegetables or even the aforementioned potato chip if given the chance. I'm just saying I'd prefer steak.
Posted by teb at 10:52 AM | Email this entry
May 26, 2006
OFF LEASH: On the impossible
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Eleanor Roosevelt once said that "you must do the thing which you think you cannot do." It was in this spirit that I attempted yesterday to squeeze myself through the locked metal gate on our back door. I was excited -- perhaps overly so -- about my impending walk and impatient for the gate to be opened.
This was, in retrospect, unwise. Only my head will fit through the bars. I immediately became aware of this unfortunate fact and attempted to extricate myself from the gate's cold, unforgiving grip. I found that I could not. This was, in a word, distressing. After some wriggling and with a bit of assistance, I was eventually set free, the gate was unlocked, and the walk took place as usual.
I learned, however, that squeezing through those bars is a thing I cannot do. I also learned that Eleanor's little bromide, while no doubt well-meaning, is not applicable in all situations. It might cheer you up during the Depression, but be careful lest your head get stuck.
Posted by teb at 10:27 AM | Email this entry
May 12, 2006
OFF LEASH: On exuberance
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
In the late 1990s, Alan Greenspan coined the phrase "irrational exuberance." It was a not-so-cryptic warning from the then-chairman of the Federal Reserve Board that tech stocks were overvalued. The economic oracle implied that investing your life savings in a company that doesn't make money might -- just might -- be unwise.
Turns out, he was right. And yet exuberance, irrational or otherwise, is not always a bad thing. For instance, I get very excited when someone comes home. My tail doesn't just wag; rather, it twirls like a helicopter blade. I throw myself in front of the newly arrived person in hopes of getting attention. In the process, I've been known to accidentally bang my head against a wall or coffee table.
Perhaps this, too, is irrational exuberance. But my head will feel better in a few minutes. The people who invested in drkoop.com are still in pain.
Posted by teb at 10:41 AM | Email this entry
May 05, 2006
OFF LEASH: On my ancestors
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Whenever I meet someone new, he or she inevitably inquires about my lineage. Sometimes they guess: "Some German Shepherd, right? Maybe a little Collie?" Or, worse, they squat down next to me, place a hand on my head, and ask in a bright, disingenuous tone: "So ... what are you?"
Here's my answer: I am a dog. My parents were dogs. Their parents were dogs. And their parents before them. I am an unholy mixture of multiple breeds, the product of unsupervised humping, commonly known as a mutt. This fact does not bother me and I can't understand why it should concern you.
For the record, though, I am not offended, just annoyed. Now please get out of my way so I can finish my walk.
Posted by teb at 11:41 AM | Email this entry
April 28, 2006
OFF LEASH: On gratitude
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I have been known to beg. When someone is eating nearby, I stare up at them with large, sad eyes. I may even whimper quietly for effect.
This behavior is deemed unacceptable by some. I have been scolded repeatedly and reminded that there is plenty of food in my dish. True enough, but that's not the food I'm interested in at the moment. I eat that food all the time; it is bland and familiar. I want the food you're eating right now. Thus, the begging.
I should note that, on occasion, a morsel is slipped to me surreptitiously. It doesn't happen often, but when it does I am grateful. Truly, truly grateful. And in the words of French Catholic philosopher Jacques Maritain: Gratitude is the most exquisite form of courtesy.
Posted by teb at 10:36 AM | Email this entry
April 21, 2006
OFF LEASH: On prejudice
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
William James, philosopher and brother of novelist Henry, wrote that many people "think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices." I take him to mean that our prejudices are so ingrained that, while we may modify them somewhat, it's difficult to dispose of them entirely.
This is true in my own life. For instance, my general feeling toward cats is one of suspicion. I have been the victim of repeated swatting and hissing -- all with little or no provocation. And yet not every cat has treated me with aggression and disdain. The neighbor's cat, Ricky, always seems pleased to see me. He rubs against my legs, purrs, and flops on his back so that I may sniff him. He seems neither threatened nor irritated by my presence.
So perhaps my anti-cat bias is unjustified. Not every last domestic feline is out to get me and the friendly neighbor cat is proof. Unless, of course, it's all part of an elaborate ruse to convince me to drop my guard so he can get in one solid, open-clawed swat.
You never know with these cats.
Posted by teb at 11:15 AM | Email this entry
April 14, 2006
OFF LEASH: On expectations
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
It is said that little things often bring the greatest pleasure. The most famous of all German writers, Goethe, acknowledged as much when he wrote the following: "It is unpleasant to miss even the most trifling thing that we have become accustomed to."
Before bedtime each night, I make one final trip to the backyard. First I prance around the perimeter, scouting for trouble. I then proceed to the area between the fence and the newly planted pear trees; it is here that I take care of my business. Afterward, I am given a treat.
Sometimes, however, the expected treat fails to be proffered. In such cases I am not shy about making my feelings known with whining, pawing, or some combination of the two. Because, as far as I'm concerned, there's nothing trifling about it.
Posted by teb at 08:43 AM | Email this entry
April 07, 2006
OFF LEASH: On baths
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Cleanliness and godliness have long been linked. Christian theologian John Wesley believed the two are next to each other; a couple of centuries earlier, Francis Bacon wrote that bodily cleanness is due to divine reverence. The concept of ablution is older still, going back to the Torah, in which ritual washing is prescribed for removing spiritual impurities.
I was thinking about this during my monthly bath. In the summer, I am subjected to a backyard hosing-off; in colder seasons, I am carried upstairs and placed in the tub. I often make a half-hearted escape attempt (the sound of running water frightens me) but my resistance is brief and futile. In the end, I emerge dripping and defeated, whereupon I scuttle downstairs.
If this is the price for godliness, I suppose it must be paid. Still, I can't help but wonder what the devil has to offer.
Posted by teb at 10:37 AM | Email this entry
March 31, 2006
OFF LEASH: On found food
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
What is food to one is to others bitter poison. Lucretius, the Roman poet and philosopher, said that. It's a fine point, as far as it goes, but I'd like to offer my own twist: What is food to one is to others -- apparently -- kind of gross.
For example, when I'm on my walk, I have been known to find chicken bones with meat still on them. How these tasty tidbits ended up on the sidewalk I'll never know. Neither do I particularly care about their origin. What I do know is that the discovery of the aforementioned bone/rotting meat is often the highlight of an otherwise humdrum afternoon.
And yet, without fail, I am ordered to "drop" this heavenly manna. If I decline, my jaws are pried apart and the succulent morsel is forcibly removed and discarded. As if this weren't enough, I am then scolded for my alleged poor behavior. To which I say: That sucks.
Posted by teb at 10:00 AM | Email this entry
March 24, 2006
OFF LEASH: On confession
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Open confession is good for the soul. Or so says a Scottish proverb. This is an idea that American pop culture has certainly embraced. If you've done something wrong -- hired a prostitute, bribed a senator, faked a memoir -- the best remedy is to bare your soul and take your lumps on national television. Admission, preferably in prime time, is the first step toward absolution.
I'm not sure I buy all that. Even so, there is value in honesty. And, as it happens, I have a confession of my own. Here it is: I sleep upstairs sometimes. This is not allowed. In fact, I'm never supposed to be upstairs. Yet, once everyone is in bed, I pad softly up the stairs and settle down in the hallway. Why do I do this? I don't know. Maybe I like getting away with something.
This is not a felony, of course. When you think of what I could be doing -- jumping up on people or chasing the cats -- it hardly seems like a problem. But I know it's not okay. I also know there's nothing anyone can do about it.
Posted by teb at 11:13 AM | Email this entry
March 17, 2006
OFF LEASH: On wasting time
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I was sniffing a particularly fragrant running shoe recently when I happened to recall a quote from Bertrand Russell: "The time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time." Russell spouted more than his share of nonsense during his long life, but on this count he was spot on. Right-o, Bertie! Right-o.
Of course, what's enjoyable to me might not be to you. The shoe sniffing, for example. Or the desk licking. Not everyone likes to dig random holes in the yard. Even fewer attempt to dig holes in the couch. This is just as well because attempting to dig holes in the couch is usually greeted with raised voices and the stern wagging of index fingers. I'm not saying you shouldn't try it; I’m just saying you should be prepared for a less-than-positive reaction.
There does come a time, though, when we need to get down to business. There is work that must be done, tasks that must be completed. Those trucks aren't going to bark at themselves.
Posted by teb at 10:42 AM | Email this entry
March 10, 2006
OFF LEASH: On quotes
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I often begin my little columns with a quote. I find that another's words can serve as a useful guide; that, in wrestling with their thoughts, I discover my own.
Of course I don't need to begin with a quote. I am perfectly capable of spinning out a few choice lines without milking the wisdom of the ancients. In this way, I am self-sufficient. In other ways, I am not. For instance, I cannot open my wet-food packets or refill my water bowl. Likewise, I cannot let myself outside, though I can signal my desire with a low whine and some gentle pawing at the door. If need be I can even growl.
The point is, while the quotes are helpful, they are not necessary. They are a tool rather than a crutch. Which puts me in mind of something Samuel Johnson once said: "A man may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it."
Posted by teb at 10:27 AM | Email this entry
March 03, 2006
OFF LEASH: On patience
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Patience, according to Cato the Elder, is the greatest of all virtues. If we are to take him seriously -- and with a name like "Cato the Elder" we probably have to -- then patience trumps kindness, loyalty, goodness, courage, even love. It is to be desired and admired above all other traits.
This gives me pause. My own ability to delay gratification is, to put it mildly, underdeveloped. When I am hungry, I am hungry right now. When I am ready to go for a walk, I want to go not in ten minutes, not in five minutes, but this very moment. If I get the urge to run around like a crazy dog, I do not hesitate to act on that urge. I do not put it off until tomorrow. Rather, I immediately begin running around like a crazy dog.
What I see as an eagerness to embrace life, Cato the Elder might deem a dearth of patience. Then again, it's easy to be patient when you're dead.
Posted by teb at 11:08 AM | Email this entry
February 24, 2006
OFF LEASH: On repeating the past
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
George Santayana warned us that those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it. The Spanish-born philosopher’s well-worn maxim is usually trotted out in reference to matters of geopolitical importance, such as the wisdom of invading another country for no good reason and without a plan for withdrawing our troops or rebuilding its infrastructure. Things like that.
But it can also have a more personal application. For instance, I like to sniff cats. I touch my nose to theirs, just as I would with a friendly dog. This gesture is almost always met with hissing, spitting, and even swatting (I have marks on my snout to prove the latter). And yet I persist.
Have I failed to learn from the past? Perhaps. Or maybe, to use another oft-quoted phrase, hope springs eternal. Either way, I plan to continue reaching out to my temperamental little friends. Whether they respond in kind or bare their surprisingly sharp claws is their decision, not mine.
Posted by teb at 11:20 AM | Email this entry
February 17, 2006
OFF LEASH: Worst in show
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Congratulations to Rufus, the tan-and-white bull terrier who won this year's Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. Your poise, genetic purity and ability to run around in circles have paid off handsomely. Those English sheepdogs and Scottish deerhounds have nothing on you, my friend. Way to go!
That said, I've never really seen the point of dog shows. All the anxious owners and old-lady judges. Sure, it would be great to hang out with a couple of hundred dogs (oh the many smells!) but, in the end, I can think of plenty of better ways to spend a weekend.
Of course that might be envy talking. My own dubious parentage precludes me from such rarefied competitions. In addition, my right ear doesn't perk up the same way as my left ear, and I know judges frown on minor abnormalities. Furthermore, I would probably bark at the other dogs and try to lick the judge's pants.
On second thought: Screw you, Rufus. You're not so great.
Posted by teb at 10:58 AM | Email this entry
February 10, 2006
OFF LEASH: On not thinking too much
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Wordsworth warned us that, in our haste to figure out the world, we risk sapping the wonder and pleasure from everyday experience. Or, in his words, "We murder to dissect." Now I doubt someone as bright as Wordsworth literally wanted us to "quit our books," but I think his general point -- i.e., don't over-think -- is a solid one.
For instance, I love to take walks. Why? I don't know. I love to lick floors. I dig holes just because. I enjoy biting on a big, messy ball of yarn. In fact, I could bite on that ball of yarn for hours. And have.
If I were to start thinking about why I do what I do, it might diminish my enjoyment. Even this little essay of mine runs that risk. Which is why I'm going to stop here and go find that yarn.
Posted by teb at 02:54 PM | Email this entry
February 03, 2006
OFF LEASH: Mot juste
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I was chewing on a jerky treat recently when I was reminded of a quote by Benjamin Franklin: "A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two different things." Hmm, yes, indeed. Wait -- no they're not. Which, now that I think about it, may be his point. Perhaps Mr. Franklin is simply demonstrating the importance of choosing the right word.
For instance, I do not jump up on people; rather, I greet them with affection. I do not chase squirrels like a crazy dog; instead, I pursue trespassers with enthusiasm. I do not whine; I implore. I do not bark; I alert. And so on.
Being able to dress-up one's actions in appropriate verbal raiment is a useful skill. Sometimes, however, a spade must be called by its name. For example, the cats I live with are lazy as hell. I'm sorry but there's just no other way to say it.
Posted by teb at 11:18 AM | Email this entry
January 25, 2006
OFF LEASH: To the dogs in my neighborhood
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Black dog w/ fluffy tail: Seriously, what is your deal? Could you be any more spastic or angry? I don’t think so, but go ahead and try.
Beautiful, Lassie-type dog: Yeah, you're gorgeous. But what's with the attitude? It's not like you groomed yourself.
Enormous dog behind chain-link fence: I know you're bigger than me. I know you believe I'm in your "territory" when I pass by your yard. I realize this is disturbing to you. But guess what? There's not a damn thing you can do about it.
Little white dog: Take a deep breath. There. Don't you feel better? I suggest taking up yoga or something before you give yourself a heart attack.
Really fat dog who barely moves: Are you alright? You don't look so good.
Teddy, the dog who is roughly my size: I've got nothing but love for you, my friend. You're always up for a romp, your tail is forever wagging, and you are crazy (in a good way). Never change.
Posted by teb at 10:14 AM | Email this entry
January 11, 2006
OFF LEASH: True Riches
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
I was licking the floor yesterday when I was reminded of a quote from Henry David Thoreau: "The man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest." By this measure, I am rich indeed because the vast majority of my pleasures are completely free. How much does it cost to bark at squirrels? Or to run around the backyard like a crazy dog? Or to growl at the wall for no reason?
I'll tell you how much: Not one dime.
And when those pleasures get old, I find new ones. For example, the other day I ate a Post-It note. It must have fallen from the desk or the bulletin board. Now, it had never occurred to me to eat a Post-It note before, but when the opportunity presented itself I thought: Well, why not? Perhaps that will be enjoyable. As it happens, I didn't particularly enjoy eating the Post-It note, but that's not the point. The point is this: You have to make your own fun.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a wall to growl at.
Posted by teb at 11:22 AM | Email this entry
January 02, 2006
OFF LEASH: Welcome 2006
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
The beginning of a year is an opportunity, not only to reflect on the accomplishments of the previous year, but to consider where one is heading in the new one. I'm not talking about so-called resolutions -- those quickly broken promises to lose weight, quit smoking, or stop growling at squirrels. No, I'm speaking of a deeper introspection, the kind of sustained self-analysis that can alter our lives for the better, that can help us to fully realize our potential, to finally become who we truly are.
On another note, have you ever tried Pup-Peroni? It's a beefy training treat from Petsmart. The slogan is "A Pooch'll Do Anything for Pup-Peroni Dog Snacks." Now, I find the idea that a dog will do "anything" for a treat more than a little insulting; and the name "Pup-Peroni" is the kind of corporate cleverness I normally despise. But, man, are they good. Really, really good. I can't tell you how good they are. Wow. As soon as the lid is unscrewed, I can barely contain myself. I’ve got to have one RIGHT NOW.
It is my hope that this new year will be full of "Pup-Peroni," so to speak. I'm using Pup-Peroni here as a metaphor. Although, just to be clear, I also mean it literally. (I’m not kidding. Those are some tasty treats.)
Posted by teb at 10:48 AM | Email this entry
December 13, 2005
OFF LEASH: On salt
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler. Past columns can be found here.
Salt is a spice, a preservative, and a necessary component of life. The Bible mentions salt more than 30 times. The modern word "salary" derives from salt: Roman soldiers were paid in "salt money." Expressions such as "salt of the earth" and "he's not worth his salt" are further evidence of salt's historical and linguistic importance.
In addition, people use rock salt to de-ice driveways and sidewalks. But here's the thing: Salt irritates my paws. It really does. I'll be walking along, sniffing, looking for squirrels -- basically minding my own business -- when I'll accidentally walk through a pile of salt. Boy, does it sting. Sometimes I stop walking and whimper, holding one paw aloft. My point is this: YOU PEOPLE ARE KILLING ME WITH THE SALT! CUT IT OUT!
It's fine to salt your driveways and sidewalks, but do so sparingly. You don't need to drop a giant freaking handful of salt on the concrete: A light sprinkling will do quite nicely.
I thank you in advance for your consideration. And so do my paws.
Posted by teb at 09:22 AM | Email this entry
December 02, 2005
OFF LEASH: On compliments
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Everyone likes a compliment now and then. Even those who feign indifference cannot help but be secretly pleased.
That goes for me, too. This morning, while out on my walk, one of our neighbors -- a stylish yoga instructor who lives one block over -- called out to me. "Looking good, Fiddler!" she said. Her comment was no doubt prompted by the faux-leather jacket I recently acquired. It was purchased to help keep me warm during the chilly winter months (unlike fluffier dogs, I do not come equipped with natural insulation; I get cold). But along with its utilitarian function, the jacket is also undeniably attractive. I do, indeed, look good in it.
And I appreciated the compliment. If that makes me vain, well, so be it.
Posted by teb at 09:53 AM | Email this entry
November 25, 2005
OFF LEASH: On pleasant surprises
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
I’m not sure exactly why -- and far be it from me to question -- but yesterday I was given turkey to eat. Good turkey, too, not some pre-digested mush that you squeeze from a packet. No, I’m talking about actual, moist, white turkey breast.
I was just standing there in the kitchen, doing what I do, when somebody reached down and handed me a little chunk of turkey. Wow, I wanted to say, where did that come from? But I didn’t. I played it cool, as if people hand me little bits of freshly cooked turkey all the time. Then, about ten minutes later, it happened again.
As far as I know, I haven’t been especially good lately. Not that I’ve been bad either; I’ve pretty much been my normal self. And yet, out of nowhere, I get turkey. It’s probably best not to over-analyze it and just be, you know, thankful.
Posted by teb at 11:48 AM | Email this entry
November 18, 2005
OFF LEASH: On the value of routine
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Flaubert was right when he said that, in order to be violent and original in one’s work, one must be regular and ordinary in everyday life. That’s why I believe in routine. I walk each morning at around the same time. Immediately following my walk, I eat the same mix of wet-and-dry kibble. Then I take a nap.
If something disrupts this schedule, I am not pleased. I may even growl. It is not a threatening growl (I reserve that for unexpected visitors and the garbage men). No, it is a muted, whiny growl: I am simply registering my displeasure. If the growling does not work, I paw at the leg of whomever is nearby. This usually does the trick. If all else fails, however, I just start barking like a mad dog.
Posted by teb at 09:43 AM | Email this entry
November 07, 2005
OFF LEASH: The hot dog rumor
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
There is a rumor going around that I -- brace yourselves -- stole a child’s hot dog. This is untrue. I did not "steal" anything.
Let me set the record straight. While out on my normal evening walk, I was approached, as I sometimes am, by a group of young children. As usual, they asked for and received permission to pet me. One of them was carrying a partially eaten hot dog. The hot dog was very close to my mouth. I ate the hot dog.
I assumed that the child intended the hot dog as a sort of payment: He gets to pet me and I get part of a hot dog. It’s win-win.
Apparently this was not the child’s intention.
I apologize for any misunderstanding. And if I had it to do over again ... oh, who am I kidding? I’d still eat the hot dog.
Posted by teb at 09:18 AM | Email this entry
October 21, 2005
OFF LEASH: Fetch this
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
As I understand it, the idea behind "fetch" is that a dog is supposed to run excitedly after an intentionally thrown item, retrieve said item, and return it to the thrower. After accomplishing this mission, the thrower often hurls the item -- be it a tennis ball or a stick –- a second time, forcing the dog to retrieve it yet again. This can go on for the better part of an afternoon, leaving the dog exhausted and confused.
See, we assume you need whatever it is you're throwing. We're retrieving it for you as a courtesy. "Oh, but my dog loves to run after the stick," you say. Really? Did your dog tell you that? Yeah, somehow I didn't so.
Think, people. That's all I'm asking.
Posted by teb at 09:26 AM | Email this entry
October 06, 2005
OFF LEASH: On regrettable behavior
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
All of us do things we’re not proud of. Some of us lie. Some of us cheat. Some of us declare war on another country for no good reason. Etc., etc.
I’m no exception. So here’s my admission: When the people aren’t looking, I sneak upstairs and eat the cats' food. I know I shouldn’t: it’s their food. Heck, I’m not even supposed to be upstairs. But the illicit thrill of wolfing down an entire bowl of Science Diet is simply too wonderful for words. Now that I’ve owned up to my shortcomings, I feel better. And, in the future, I promise to, you know, do my level best to -- um -- resist temptation ... and so forth.
Posted by teb at 10:16 AM | Email this entry
September 23, 2005
OFF LEASH: On kennels
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
I recently returned from a two-week stay at a facility that bills itself as "the very finest in country boarding." The institution is named "Rivermist," which is rather like referring to Sing-Sing as Sunrise Meadows. And what’s more ...
Want to read the rest of this article? Then subscribe to Minor Tweaks Select. Like the New York Times, Minor Tweaks is now making its op-ed columnists available exclusively to readers with $49.95 to burn. That may seem like a rip-off for a column written by a dog, but at least Fiddler won’t harangue you with some tiresome flat-world theory or make you cringe with her too-cutesy prose (I’m looking at you, Maureen).
Posted by teb at 08:22 AM | Email this entry
August 24, 2005
OFF LEASH: On napping
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Normally I am not in the business of doling out nuggets of folksy, homespun wisdom. As a country we are already awash in motivational posters and inspirational books promoting an Oprah-esque brand of glibness masquerading as sagacity. I’m loathe to add to the spew.
That said, if there’s anything I’ve learned in my five-plus years of sniffing around this big backyard we call earth it is this: Take a nap. Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, just flop down on the floor and rest for a few minutes. You’ll feel better. Really. And that thing you were so worked up about -- the strange clanking noise, the squirrel on the power line, the unfamiliar smell near the door -- will recede into meaninglessness.
Posted by teb at 10:17 AM | Email this entry
August 15, 2005
OFF LEASH: Counting one's blessings
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
After glancing back over my previous columns, I realize that I have often used this space to whine about minor annoyances such as garbage men, little dogs, and thunder. Don’t get me wrong -- these things bug me. They really do. However, I do not wish to give the impression that I’m forever kvetching about this or that while overlooking the great joys of life like long evening walks, rolling around in freshly cut grass, or napping on the couch. Of course often I’m forced to sleep on the floor because one or more cats has claimed the couch and will greet my apparently unbearable presence with indignant hissing or outright violence in the form of open-clawed nose-swatting. Hey, it’s a big couch! You can continue to perch snottily at the other end! I don’t care! But oh no, we can’t have that, can we? That’s waaaaaay too much to ask.
Sorry. Kind of lost track of the thesis.
Posted by teb at 10:41 AM | Email this entry
July 29, 2005
OFF LEASH: On the subject of accidents
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
The dictionary reminds us that an accident is a "sudden event that occurs without intent or volition." Another authoritative source (Elvis Costello) tells us that "accidents will happen." And yet there is a tendency in certain quarters to scold -- or, in some cases, punish -- those responsible for accidents. Even the word "responsible" is misleading: How can one be responsible for something if one did not intend it to happen? By definition, no one is truly at fault when an accident occurs. Therefore the assignation of blame or the imposition of penalties is unjustified and, in the end, counterproductive. Instead we should simply acknowledge that an accident has occurred and start cleaning up the mess. Metaphorically, I mean.
Posted by teb at 10:58 AM | Email this entry
July 02, 2005
OFF LEASH: On the importance of kindness
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Recently I was sniffing one of the three cats that live with me when, out of nowhere, the cat spun around and took a swat at my face. Why the sudden hostility? We live in a troubling enough world (terrorism, war, thunder) without being gratuitously nasty to each other. That’s why I propose that we all make an extra effort to be kind to those who are close to us. Hug your children. Call your grandma. Give your dog one of those delicious extra-meaty milkbone treats that come in the red box. Trust me -- it'll make you feel better.
Posted by teb at 11:27 AM | Email this entry
June 03, 2005
OFF LEASH: On the subject of rain
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Sometimes water falls from the sky. I know because I’ve witnessed this on multiple occasions. I have nothing against rain as such; in fact, I rather enjoy getting wet. It is what often accompanies rain that concerns me. I’m speaking, of course, about thunder.
It is loud. And, truth be told, it frightens me. In the event of a thunderstorm, my modus operandi is to stand in the corner and quake, tail tucked safely between legs, until it passes. During this period I do not eat or respond to commands. Because as far as I know, something noisy and large is preparing to devour me. I know the rest of you believe this is unlikely. Perhaps you even find the idea ridiculous. But I doubt you’ll be quite so smug when the thunder comes for you.
Posted by teb at 10:19 AM | Email this entry
May 22, 2005
OFF LEASH: The boy across the street
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
I have nothing against children. I like them, in fact: they usually want to pet me. Yes, they pull my ears sometimes or rub me vigorously the wrong way, but that's fine. They don't know any better and I don't mind the attention.
That said, I have issues with the 10-year-old boy who lives across the street. On a recent walk, he approached cautiously and asked if he could pet me. After being told that he could, he made several jerky motions with his hand in the direction of my head, then squealed and ran away. What was that? I remain baffled. I thought kids today we're supposed to be de-sensitized mini-monsters not bed-wetting wusses. Somebody needs to buy junior a copy of "Grand Theft Auto: Vice City" -- and quick.
Posted by teb at 11:41 AM | Email this entry
May 05, 2005
OFF LEASH: On little dogs
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
Several days ago during my morning walk I encountered a small, white dog. When I say “small” I mean not much bigger than a cat. As soon as the dog saw me, he ran toward the chain-link fence separating us and begin barking angrily. I should point out here that I am what might be called a medium-sized dog -- I weigh in at a solid 55 pounds. There are plenty of dogs bigger than me, of course, but in relation to this puff of fur and attitude I am a veritable monster. And yet, from all appearances, he wanted to fight me to the death. To small dogs everywhere I wish to say the following: Chill out. And to this small dog in particular: You’re lucky the fence was there, my friend.
Posted by teb at 10:52 AM | Email this entry
April 07, 2005
OFF LEASH: Barking against the bad
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
I was urinating in someone’s front yard the other day when I happened to recall a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "Don’t waste yourself in rejection, nor bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good." I agree with the stuff about not wasting yourself in rejection and chanting the beauty of the good -- that’s fine as far as it goes. But I must take issue with Ralph’s comment on not barking against the bad. Indeed I would argue that we are obligated to bark against the bad wherever we may find it, be it in the board rooms of our most powerful corporations, the hallowed halls of our governmental institutions, or in our very own neighborhoods. It is incumbent upon each of us to seek out and expose the evil that hides itself in the nooks and crannies of not only our society but our souls. We must bark against the bad. Also, we should bark against the garbage men because we’re not sure what they’re doing in our driveway.
Posted by teb at 11:04 AM | Email this entry
March 19, 2005
OFF LEASH: Fear not, little squirrel
"Off Leash" is an occasional column by Fiddler.
The other day, while digging frantically in the yard for no reason, I spotted a squirrel atop the fence. Of course I immediately ran over to see what he was doing. The squirrel, in turn, leapt from the fence to a nearby tree then scurried up the trunk. As happens so often, my eagerness was interpreted as hostility. I can’t tell you how many times, either on a walk or in the backyard, I have inadvertently frightened one of these nervous, bushy-tailed creatures. So let me be clear: Squirrels of the world, I mean you no harm. You may gather your nuts and do whatever else you do secure in the knowledge that you have nothing to fear from this dog. Watch out for the cats, though. Seriously.
Posted by teb at 10:05 AM | Email this entry