Max and Ginger
And what is it? Max and Ginger.
I seriously cannot imagine my life without my dogs. It sounds silly, but anyone with a pet will know what I'm talking about (except those neanderthal redneck brutes that beat their animals and shit). I don't know what it is about Max and Ginger, but no matter how much things change or get fucked up, those two will always be the same. I think this provides a sort of unconscious sense of stability that I don't even know is there unless I dwell on it. I'm giving those mutts a lot of credit, aren't I? Well.... they certainly deserve it.
Max wasn't the first pet I ever had. That honor goes to "Fluffy", a cute little bunny rabbit that was my 1st grade class pet. I adopted it when summer vacation came around. Sadly, Fluffy's life ended tragically... we let him run around in our garden outside, and he got into the carrots and lettuce and ate himself to death. It was a few years after that (three to be exact; I was nine) when we decided to get a dog. My mom bought a book with pictures and descriptions of almost 400 different breeds of dogs. After much research and deliberation (I wanted a big dog, my parents wanted a little dog. Fuckers.), we decided to get a Cairn Terrier (same breed as Toto from the Wizard of Oz. Another one was feature in "Twister." A true Tornado breed.) We found an ad in the paper for a newly born litter of Cairns and went and visited the place.
There were about six puppies running around in a little caged off area in the owner's kitchen. They were all cute as a button, but most of them were busy eating or licking each other's assholes or whatever else puppies do. Only one of them paid any attention to us.... he seemed more quiet and reserved than the rest, and he seemed to have a sort of reserved curiosity about his surroundings. He waddled over and sniffed at me and then looked up and wagged his tail.
That was Max.
Max has one of the most diverse personalities of anyone I know, people included.... most of the time he's quiet yet stoic, but once in a while he'll become playful or frisky. But above all, he thinks that my family is part of his pack. Even though he hides it well, he is always loving and affectionate. If you sit down on the couch to watch TV, more often than not you'll feel a little nose nudge at your leg and it will be Max, wanting to come sit on your lap and have his ears scratched. Or if you're outside working and you cut your finger or suffer some other sort of injury, he'll instantly sense it somehow and he'll scamper over to make sure you're ok. Even though he's getting up there in years (he's 10 or 11 now), he's still very healthy and active. I have a feeling he'll be around for a while.
When I was about twelve, my grandmother came down to visit us, and when she came in, an adorable little puppy jumped out of her car and came inside. This was Ginger. Ginger is the same breed as Max (Cairn Terrier), but their personalities are galaxies apart. The first thing I noticed about her (she was about six months old when my grandma gave her to us) was that she was very timid and skittish. It turns out that her previous owners (my grandma's neighbors) had abused and neglected her, and that their 20-something year old son "rescued" her and took her to my grandma, who took care of Ginger for a few weeks before bringing her to us. Despite her ingrained sense of insecurity, Ginger is still one of the most wonderful balls of fluff that I've known. She is much more forward than Max.... where he is stolid and stoic, she is rude and pushy. If Max is eating food out of his food bowl, she'll run across the house (even though she's already eaten) and push him out of the way and start eating again. But Max puts up with it, cause he's hardcore. Anyway..... despite Ginger's suspiciously female traits of pushy bitchiness, she's a very sweet dog. I get home from work very early in the morning.... anywhere from midnight to 4 AM. But no matter when I get home, Ginger is always waiting by the door for me, jumping up and down (the "Ginger Dance") and running in circles and wagging her tail. Every night, she sleeps on the foot of my bed or on my pillow or snuggled up to me under my blankets. I couldn't ask for that sort of devotion from any human being even if I tried.
Their various personality quirks and mental complexes aside (Ginger is the downright dumbest animal I've ever seen), my dogs are a very important part of my life. I love and appreciate my parents more than words can express, but if they died the same day as my dogs died, I believe that I would be more devastated by Max and Ginger's deaths than my own parents. In my head I know that Max and Ginger's days will come, eventually...... but for now I'm content in knowing that those two dogs are so full of life and vigor, that even when they physically die, for me and my family, they'll live forever.
2/26/03