I'll Blame It On The Onions

Last night as I was chopping some vegetables for dinner, our friend Geness, who's going through a separation and staying with us for a little while to get back on her feet, was in the living room with Will. They were watching some TV and laughing, while I started thinking back on the last few mornings I've had.

We live a few minutes from the beach and every chance I get (about 4 mornings a week) I take Gomez and Wednesday, our pups, there for a nice long walk. I usually take them in the early morning before many people show up so we don't have anymore mishaps like when Gomez was attacked by that fuckface's dog and then run over by a TRAIN - all in about 10 seconds. I still see that bastard almost everyday. I don't blame the dog, I blame the asshole who owns the dog. One day, if the yoga and meditation don't help, I may just have to resort to kicking the piece of shit in his teeth. Until then, I'll be civil...and I'll keep preaching peace to the pissed-off one that resides in me.

The dogs and I share a common bond of absolutely loving the beach. Gomez is able to run freely on the soft sand without hurting his paw (where he lost some digits from the train accident) and it almost moves me to tears everytime I see him run so carefree (the trauma and guilt of watching what happened will unfortunately, never be out of my head). I carry him over the rocks to the safe sandy part so he doesn't trash his paw on the small pebbles, which he still has a hard time with. And Wednesday sticks by me, the ever loyal alpha female. She stays by my side until she can't stand it anymore and then she takes off like a bolt chasing Gomez all over. He LOVES it. Then she returns to me satisfied that she got her ya-ya's out. Both of them all jazzed up, looking as though they had just snorted lines of Comet.

With the waves crashing and the breeze blowing in, it seems like a bit of heaven there. Seals poking their heads out of the water to investigate what we're up to. Dolphins feeding just off-shore, while squadrons of pelicans glide in formation overhead. That's my heaven. The dogs heaven happens to be a bit more on the aromatic side. A touch of the divine permeating their nostrils, especially with it being a virtual smorgasbord of rotting seaweed, dead fish, sea birds and lots of shit. They think it's an all-you-can-eat seafood and shit buffet, so they are constantly sniffing, licking and trying to roll in anything disgusting. The more repulsive the better.

Well a couple of days ago, as we were walking, a seal was what looked to be, at a distance, frolicking in the waves. As we approached, it was clear, it wasn't frolicking...it was dying. The waves were relentless in their pursuit of drowning the creature. It was awful and seemed too brutal for such a serene morning. The beach was still beautiful, but what I was witnessing was torture for the creature's life and for my sensitive heart. And like life itself, the juxtaposition suggested something a bit unnecessarily cruel.

I turned around and walked the other way so the dogs wouldn't bother it and I wouldn't have to watch. Although, we'd have to pass at some point to get back to where we started from. I called the County Sheriff's office to report it, to see if they might come and pick up the poor suffering thing. The dispatcher was such a lifeless asswipe, "They make a sweep of the beach everyday, I'm sure they'll pick it up. Goodbye." Thanks you evil whore.

I kept stalling, I didn't want to see anymore. The water kept knocking the poor seal down and it would struggle to get up, struggling to breathe. It looked like a worm out of dirt, flailing this way and that. The water had been its home for most of its life, now it was going to kill it. We eventually had to walk past it. The dogs were eerily respectful of the creature while we passed. I wished it peace and wished for its suffering to be quick. And even though I feel that all of life is interconnected, that we are all limbs on something much bigger and that death is just another transition, I couldn't contain my tears. Watching something in its last minutes gasping for air, all alone and trying desperately to cling to its life was just too much. As I wished for peace for it, I wished for the wind to dry the wetness of my eyes and for something else to steal my attention away.

So yesterday, we passed that seal on the beach again. This time Wednesday ran ahead and scared all of the vultures from it. All apart of the cycle, I suppose. I wanted to call that fucking dispatcher back and tell her that she IS an evil whore, tell her that she was wrong...they never came. Maybe she knew that they wouldn't. As the waves were lapping at the shore and the sun was warming my back, I wished again for the wind to dry my eyes.

And last night, with Will and Geness laughing and making fun of whatever was on TV, I quietly chopped the vegetables and I thought, if they come around the corner into the kitchen and see me...I'll blame it on the onions.