Today I Returned to The Dog Park

"Hey Man, Is that you? Mingus? Man, we thought you were DEAD!"

"She did what? She hand fed you anything you would eat? Lamb hearts in porridge, buffalo with rice, roast chicken, roast lamb, chicken livers, chicken hearts, omelettes, soft-boiled eggs, smoked salmon, crab, CANNED DOG FOOD, painkillers, natural remedies... a new dominatrix, dirty movies, Lassie reruns ??? " Shit man, no wonder you decided to live. Well, we've missed you limping around here."

"That's not my Dealer Bro, is that your Dealer?"

"Mrs. Mingusbitch, thank-you for bringing Mingus back to the dog park and bringing enough old beef hearts for all of us to enjoy. Do you have room for an old beagle at your house? I'd like to die with you too. "

Opportunistic Dying

Is dying from an opportunistic infection like dying from falling in love with an opportunistic sociopath? I'll probably die before I truly grasp the depth and despair posed by this dilemma....

Mingus, the seeker

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Color-coordinating My Death

I'm getting the hang of this death and near-death thing now. It's high-drama. Like weddings.

It's hard to die on red I would think since it is so hot and vibrant, but it is surprisingly nice to sleep on red. I'm sort of hoping that red sheets under black dog will attract a vampire, or some cheesy women in tacky lingerie who will cuff me to the bed.... Tramadol and Arsenica, and Vampires and Whores.... dying is rather theatrical and when you drag it out like this it loses some of the sadness and becomes as boring as most relationships which stagnate.... Everybody loves you when the drama is high and they can claim a piece of the spotlight for themselves, but if you just fade gently into the night they forget about you in no time flat....

so much for posterity....

Mingus, the beautiful and kind (and slightly kinky)

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Tell Me Again

I simply asked T.B. to restate her promise--which she did. "I will not replace you with another dog Mingus. You are irreplaceable Sweetlove." She said it three times lucky. I believe her. We both know there could never be another Mingus.

Husbands are a different thing. That's all about property. She can do whatever she wants on the man or husband front. Who cares?!! I was married with her, so I know the inside on that one. You can't fool me anymore than you can fool T.B..

It's obvious isn't it? Don't you just want to punch people in the face when they ask whether you will get another dog when this one dies. Would they ask someone whose kid just died whether they were going to make or buy a new one to replace the one that just perished????? I can see why T.B. loves me more than anyone--look at the options!!!

Mingus, the perfect

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

I Didn't Die

There's something to be said for setting new goals when you are on the precipice of DEATH! We ran into Auntie Brenda and Emmet and I've set my sights on being as tall as Emmett. I know, it's like T.B. setting her sights on being a lanky six foot tall blonde with a small brain and a trail of men begging to keep her in style.... delusion is the lifeforce of the damned!

Mingus,
the raconteur

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Party Over My Head

Here's how Auntie V's party looked from my perspective except for the few times that I got up on the couch. I was pretty stoned on Tramadol, and then Auntie R. tried to get me to eat a roach, not dipped in chocolate, with her. Old Hippies!! You can buy them the latest fashions but they are still old hippies! Tif hung out with us too to make us all feel a little younger. I'm not sure what the "men thing" was where the guys were putting the heads on their shoulders together to look at something that seemed to be in the vicinity of their other heads. I can't hear, or see very well, so that one is still a mystery to me. They didn't invite me to join them so clearly they didn't want any competition from the stud in the room. I was busy looking after the biatches anyway....

Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Reprieve

I feel good! I'm stoned on new narcotics and Dr. Goldberg gave me a classic homeopathic remedy that will ease my anxiety and likely kill me in my sleep too! That is very Shakespearean and appeals to T.B.'s theatrical sensibilities and my love of tripping out and sleeping! I like this hand-feeding thing. T.B. really knows how to reinvent a relationship! She has a trusted ally in Dr. G. too (and therefore so do I!)

I MADE IT ALL THE WAY AROUND THE BLOCK TONIGHT AND EVEN STOPPED INTO OUR FRIENDLY NATURAL PET FOOD PROVIDER FOR A REFILL OF LIVER BARS AND SOME ON THE HOUSE DELICIOUS LIVER BROWNIES.

PARTY HERE TOMORROW!!!! We're getting ready! I CAN'T WAIT! I want my appetite to be fully operational so I can take full advantage of Auntie Robi's hand-feeding talents.

Sorry Chase, you're gonna have to wait a little longer for my elevator ride.... I'll bring cake and other delicious supplies when I embark though. I promise.

Mingus, the conqueror!

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

That's More Like It

Okay already, I'm not driven by animal lust and haven't followed my "head" around for my whole life. This doesn't mean I'm going to thank T.B. for having my nuts removed! She made me into a Mama's Boy who followed his stomach around his whole life. Well, now my appetite has waned.... wait a minute... room service and hand fed in bed! Okay, I'll eat some boiled egg and some banana bread and maybe a little chicken, but I'm not eating kibble, or salmon, or lamb.... oh, and pass the anti-inflamatories, and maybe we could smoke a little weed with breakfast.... get the appetite up.... (the more I look at that erectile high function print on her wall, the more I'm relived at my situation--that is one awkward talking stick!) pass the molasses for this dish of yogurt will you???? No thank you, no potatoes for me..... yes, I'll have some of that handfed thigh meat....

Bed really is a great place, isn't it?

Mingus, with appetite returning

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Trust And Fear

Mrs. Mingusbitch,

I gave you my trust and you gave me yours. I protected you in every way I could and you did the same in return. I alleviated your fears of walking in the forest. I've never, ever, neglected you, or acted in a way that would jeopardize our devotion to each other (except maybe that time when I followed that woman with the ice cream cone part way towards her car before my loyal to Christine gene kicked back in).

I'm asking you not to cause me fear now. Listen to me and what my body is telling you, and don't put fear into this perfect little relationship of trust we've built together. Please don't let those clinicians hurt me, or take me to a place that is going to make me feel fearful. I'm feeling kind of lousy and I want your pledge. I don't want to die in fear, I want to die in your arms like Chase did, in love, not in fear.

I'm not one of your unreliable, fear-driven, narcissistic, avaricious, neglectful and did I say, "unreliable and vain and grotesquely driven by self-interest" Homosapien male "friends". All I'm asking of you is to continue our bond of trust as I'm dying and to eliminate my fear. Just be conscious for both of us and act with the love in your heart that I've relied on for all these years. Have a logical consult with Dr. Kevorkian and remember I'm trusting you not to cause me any fear. I trust you bitch, please keep trusting me to tell you what is right.

Your Loving Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

T.B. Visits Dr. Kavorkian

I'm resting up cause T.B. has an appointment with my Dr. Kavorkian tomorrow in the guise of a consult on controlling my pain and planning my humane death.... "humane" worries me.... chopping my nuts off was "humane" remember????

We're having a party here on Wednesday for Auntie V's birthday, so I'm relying on her having the sense to realize I'm the co-host as usual... and that she'll cover for my despondency with a pile of excuses that don't include "imminent euthanasia". I wish I could hear then I'd know what she's been SAYING ON THE SUBJECT.

So far I'm here and Chase and Mew are just pictures of themselves and some memories held by their significant others like T.B. and me.....

I'm sleeping now... night, night
Ming

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Skateboards for Labrador Retrievers In Heaven

Thanks for the invite Chase. Your ashly remains are in this urn to my right, with the skateboarding Lab toy that Auntie Katie gave us, it's standing on top of you in your "urn". What's it like be a big pile of ashes in a jar? We look pretty cute sharing a bed there up at Harold and Jenny's at Whistler, and you are adorable snuggled up with Mew in that other picture. Is it like that in doggy heaven? Are you happy there? Are there criminals? Are there Realtors? Do you miss me like I miss you? Can I be assured that you will meet my elevator when I arrive and that we can pick up where we left off? How can we all be a family again without T.B.? She doesn't like skateboards any more than I do....

Mingus, the contemplative

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Art and Death

Dear Sweet Mingus,

This isn't just a practice memorial for "us", it is a way of putting something concrete, stupid but "real" into the world of the living so that when you die I'll have some reminders of how big you made home, how worthwhile, and how loving. Coming home to you never, ever, ever, lost its appeal, its welcome, its joy. You're my buddy baby and being here is going to be one huge chasm of "where the hell is Mingus?" when your loving heart stops beating.

Thanks for waiting for me to show up at the kennel in the summer of '94, and staying close for these fourteen plus years, buddy. You sure know how to make a gal feel loved.

Kisses,
T.B.

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

COURAGE

Admittedly the day didn't start out so well. I refused breakfast, despite all the machinations and trials which started with T.B. mixing up kibble and lamb roast with mashed potatoes--which I couldn't stomach, then she tried wild sockeye salmon which was delicious last night, but not so appetizing today, then she tried roast chicken with risotto rice, which when hand fed was palatable. Then she resorted to canned dog food, which is a little like getting junk food when you're sick... I ate some, just enough so she could give me my joint pills... I did settle on liver strips.... then I passed out after I peed. She was hoping I was dead then, I could tell, and she confided as much to our neighbor, Guy--who offered to play ambulance with us. BUT I RALLIED!!! I'm not going to die on Saint Margaret of Antioch Day! Pleeeeeeezzzzzzze! The patroness of CHILDBIRTH!!! I'm gay and a non-breeder!

The point of today's exercise is to test just how many trips to the supermarket and the dog food store she'll make in one day to get me to eat (and how she'll juggle this with a busy work schedule), and how many meals she will prepare and throw out, and reinvent, and hand feed. I don't think I can live on Feelgood's "Little Bag of Courage" frozen beef hearts, but they are rather like splurging on a day or two of bonbons in bed, or on my flokati on the couch in my case. She's drugging me up too, so all in all I feel pretty good. She's a good soldier/nurse T.B. is. She really has proven her loyalty and commitment. Maybe, I'll reward her by fulfilling her wish that I die in my sleep one night before my bones make more pain for me. We'll see....

Mingus, securely in control

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

What? I Become Part of The Carbon Deposits In The Soil!

This is bad! Very bad! T.B. wakes up crying this morning. Or I wake up and she's crying and dehairing me all over her clean sheets. She's not crying about the hair either. She appears to be crying about a lump on my muzzle. It's my lump biatch, do you have to claim ownership of my lumps now? STOP CRYING!!!!

I mean she had me castrated so that I could be her doting "pet", not giving a damn about my capacities as a stud, only caring about how domesticated she could make me, how responsive to her "commands", bribing me all the time with luxurious surroundings and gourmet foods, claiming that medical studies show that my life will be prolonged for having lost my nuts as a youth. WELL MAYBE I DON'T REALLY WANT TO LIVE SO LONG IF I CAN'T FREELY EXERCISE MY SEXUAL RIGHTS AS A LIVERATED STUD!!! Don't manipulate me with your crying now. Your emotions can't possibly hurt as much as losing my nuts, then my spleen, but MOSTLY MY INDEPENDENCE!!!

And, I find out that when I die I just become part of the landscape again. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, shed hair to carbon footprint... Oh maybe she'll do some stupid public tribute to my posterity, set up a foundation in my name, rescue another "poor helpless little homeless puppy" or worse, pay for another stud to train into submission, but not before she castrates him! She's evil. I've been living with a demon for over fourteen years all because I can't read, I can't write, I can't talk, I can't earn money.... I'm dependent on the "charity" of T.B..

Mingus, the lately enlightened

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Mingus' Assignment Opportunity

I've learned a lot living with T.B.. I spent the weekend contemplating my own death and I made some decisions.

I'm going to assign my death and cut my losses. I'll put a downpayment on my death contract and then just before my closing date when the balance of the monies are due, I'll assign the contract to an unsuspecting and ill-informed pooch. I won't mark it up. I'll even take a loss and walk from my initial deposit.

Look, if some guy can sell his post-divorce life on E-Bay, I can sell my death at a loss!

Mingus, the contemplative

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Mingus and the Skateboard Dude

Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac might be going down but me and the dudes at the skateboard park are just hangin and T.B. is working like crazy!!!! Looks like lots of pain to go around, not just in my hips!

Mingus, the dude

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Why I Like The Dog Park

Yes, regular trips to the Dog Park are an important part of my week and my general sense of well-being.

Mingus

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

The Death Talk

Maybe because she had my nuts chopped off when I was little and therefore I couldn't bang anyone up, I didn't get the "sex talk". She pretty much let me hump whoever wanted to hump--animate and inanimate--so long as it was consensual. I don't know whether the "death talk" is really any different, and since I'm deaf it isn't like I'm "listening". I just hope she is.

I'm still having some fun. I met a little half-breed named Kai tonight and we flirted and T.B. fed her some of my hard liver cookies that I don't like anymore cause they are HARD. T.B. tried to have the "death talk" with me yesterday with the elk bone and the Weber props, and then in the night when I tossed an turned and panted for forty-five minutes and she had to re-position my legs for me everytime I flipped sides, JUST LIKE I WAS A ROAST!!! I'm glad my bitch is also a chef! Fixing me in the night is just like timing the basting of the roast!

I only keep her up for an hour here and an hour there--no different than some of the MEN she wastes her time with!

Mingus, the determined to live every moment

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

In The Religious Sky Lay The Omen Of The Elk Bone

I can't say why T.B. thinks picnics and books are a good match exactly. At tonight's picnic I decided to address this issue of religious outcomes for myself, so I prayed for an elk bone. A flood of sunlight struck my velvet bed in the park and from the cooler emerged: MY ELK BONE!

I licked the marrow out, but wasn't too keen on the rest (old elk--smells bad--and was previously frozen, T.B. should know better, wasn't she a chef at one time! Sheesh!)


Mingus, the touched by the god of the elk bone


copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Max Weber By The Beach

It's so simple, T.B. needs to become a Protestant and then we'll be rich... I'll never see her because time is money and money is the result of profitable effort and though I consume much time and effort I don't result in profit, so.... I'm S.O.O.L. on that one ... It's something about social utility--if a relationship doesn't have a strong profit motive (money in the bank) at its heart it isn't a relationship of any value. Clearly, I can't have her thinking along those lines! She can't stop being my pay all the bills slave NOW when the bills are gigantic and I'm ancient!

I puked up my dinner on her copy of Weber's "The Protestant Ethic and The Spirit of Capitalism" so now she's reading Michael Pollan's "The Omnivore's Dilemma".... It takes such trickery to keep her in line with my ethics (and needs)!

Mingus, the attuned

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Not Going to Bard On The Beach

No, if T.B. is too cheap to take me to Stratford On Avon I'm not agreeing to go to some colonial version of Shakespeare By English Bay!

Mingus, the too well-informed

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Change

Hey Kid, a word of advice, "these humans use the same word in English for small coins, and for major disruptions and states of flux." The word which encrypts these values is "CHANGE". Beware. Be safe and guarded and hope for the best. There are peculiar phrases that utilize this ominous word. "Short Change" "Spare Change" "Do You Have Any Change?" "Will You Ever Change?" "I Love You, Now Change" "Don't Change" "Nothing Ever Changes" .... I tell you, words are irrelevant... just go with the other senses and intuitions and good luck....

Mingus, Deaf and Deflated by the English Language

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

NOT Going Too Far!

Let's make something perfectly clear here! This is fiction extrapolated from life. Mingus and T.B. are not lovers, have never been lovers, will never be lovers.... It isn't that we are prudish, nor inhibited, nor judgmental ... we just have our personal boundaries and respect certain laws which are in place about human interaction with animals, and though Mingus is truly one of the most charming, disarming and lovable creatures that limps on Earth, T.B. doesn't have THAT KIND OF CHEMISTRY WITH HIM! So, please do not contact us in an effort to accommodate your kinks.

This blog is merely a fusion ... a creative (we hope) effort to elucidate the profound, companionable, coupleLIKE WITH ENORMOUS LIMITATONS IN TERMS OF COMMUNICATON POTENTIAL FOR PEOPLE AND THEIR DOGS. This is not a porn site! If there is anything vaguely erotic about the content, it is intended only in as far as it would be an amusing take on human culture from a dog's point of view. Okay, so we are prudes, but we are prudes who know their boundaries. Shish!

Mingus and T.B.

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Apparently Not All Cookies Are Made of Liver

I wanted to believe her when she said she wasn't hiding any cookies, but there were too many signs in her evasive behavior and her defensive responses when I asked about her cookie and Internet use. Not only are there cookies on her computer for web sites that have nothing to do with meeting other dogs or garnering more cookies for me, but there are mailboxes full of archived smut exchanges with real people who will never ever show up with liver, or cheese, or peanut butter biscuits for me!

I'm having her Internet connection disconnected. That is the quickest cure for this disease of hers.


copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Beware of Dog, How Can a Heart Hurt So Much?

Our friend, Louis de Niverville, gave us this portrait, "Beware of Dog" he painted (collaged) of Mingus when he was four years old. He captured Ming's Dr. Seussness in the shadows so aptly!

Tough night with Mingus and his irregular heart beats ... my sleepy hand on his chest feeling the strain of his big loving heart working so hard to keep pushing the blood through his old, and kind, heart.

He has switching sides down to a fine art. I correct his back legs for him, which don't move in smooth sync with the rest of him anymore. We're an old couple adusting to each other's creaks in the night.

Another dose of arnica at 3 a.m., for him, but I think I'll start arnica for me too, or maybe I'll start drinking again! I'm up and might as well check my mail... just a short sleepy note that a friend is back home from an adventure with his daughters in the East ... I know the heartbreak that lurks there is more sufficient than mine... it's all relative in familial love.

After a pretty much sleepless night for me, we get up for Ming to have LAMB HEARTS and porridge, and I promise some dancing doms in latex this afternoon. The damn dog just keeps smiling back ... even when I don't produce the dancing doms in latex.

He'll tell me when, I know he'll tell me "when it's enough ... or too much". In the meantime the damn sun should shine more cause I can water the grass, the city, with my tears just fine.

T.B.

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

"My Life Was Shattered When I Found Out About T.B.'s Affairs"

There's a non-cereal version of polygamy that T.B. has been involved in and it has destroyed our marriage. I'm so depressed I can hardly look at her. All the time I thought she was diligently using the Internet to promote our happy marriage and publicize our unique and exclusive devotion, but I found out that she has an addiction to Internet intimacy with MEN no less. Some of them even age-appropriate men, that is OLD MEN. Many of these non-exclusive relationships happen simultaneously and don't involve cereal at all, but talk of other foodstuffs! Her claim to being mostly a cereal monogamist is just more lies! I just want to die; or sue, or make a public spectacle over it. I went into this marriage expecting full ownership and I never even got her registration papers from her breeder.


copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Send In The Dom

Shish! It's hot and I'm sleeping. Plus, I'm bored. T.B. has run out of amusements for me. Don't wake me unless it is because my new Dom is here to amuse me and toy with my.... parts. Look, if they can clone Labradors in Singapore for the drug squad, you should be able to replace my hindquarter with a new and better one. If you can't do that, then I want dancing doms to break up the monotony of the afternoon.

Mingus in charge

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Codependence

I forgot to ask Chase whether he's seen Woody or Icy? I wonder if Woody can do the sandwich with his grandmother's sister in the afterdeath???? I dunno, was Woody codependent or just passive aggressive the way he always had to be in exactly your space--even airspace?????

What's the difference between afterglow and afterdeath? That isn't a rhetorical question! I'm serious! I'm trying to sound intelligent--maybe intelligence will keep imminent death at bay????
I think T.B. is more afraid of my death than I am. Well, I know she is. She's gonna be all alone. Totally alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. No love. Kapput. Whereas I'll be going to see all my friends and family and maybe some of her friends and family too!

Mingus, the less afraid

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Searching For The Cure

T.B. says that the erectile dysfunction drugs address problems and behaviors with the wrong head ... beats me! I'm searching for something here in the tall grasses but I can't remember what I'm searching for.

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

No Worries When You're Dead, Stupid

How was I supposed to know? I've never been dead, just deaf! Chase contacted me overnight and told me that I can't worry about T.B. once I'm dead cause dead is a "No Worries" zone, and not like the hipster/stoner kids "no worries zone", like a for real, no worries zone! He said you don't have to be ambitious when you're dead either. Maybe T.B. is already dead. This is all very confusing. Language doesn't make any of it any less confusing either!

Mingus, the perplexed

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch

Dominion Day

It's Canada Day! The nation was weened of/by the Brits VERY SLOWLY apparently. The Brits are known for slow, inane and sadistic tortures made to look refined and humane according to T.B., but I think she relates this to that loves-to-hide- and-never-speak-up Brit she fell in love with so stupidly a while back. Which reminds me, I miss his kid. So does T.B..

Nation-building and nation-weening and national independence are topics of HOT contest and sorry outcomes mostly. My Mom weened me by force I know, and then gave me up for adoption by force too. She was a sex slave that lived in a concrete kennel and didn't get to determine her reproductive choices through informed decisions and free will--like most of the beings on the planet I guess.

I'm lucky. T.B. "fixed" me so that I could be pawloose and fancyfree. I've been a surogate dad and a big brother to lots of pups and people and I'm a great husband for T.B., though I'm not likely to leave her any better off financially than her last husband. I wish I could fix that but I can't talk, can't write, can't make money and therefore can't really look after her. I guess she knew that going in.

Is she really going to be okay after I die? I'm afraid for her. She's lived through all these other tragedies, but I like to think that maybe she'll die with me so that I don't have to worry about her being here without me.

Mingus, the devoted

copyright 2008 Christine Saulnier, Mingusandthebitch