I got to talking with someone online, about the way that the media portrays every day events.
The other day I read a news article about "Two Pit Bulls Loose in Neighborhood". The dogs did no damage, were actually friendly family pets who got loose. Yet the damage was done right in the title, and in that they actually took the time to publish said article. If two labs were to be loose in this neighborhood, would there have been a story? Are we being conditioned with the phrase, "pit bull" as something that is worthy of fear?
I see the same exaggeration of importance when supposed "terrorist acts" are commit against the US. Funny thing is, when the US goes out and does the same (or worse) things in another country, Americans do not consider it "terrorism". The concept of terrorism as we define it today is fairly new, as off the 1960s and 70s. The smallest instances which we now consider terrorism as would not have been seen as a "big deal" at a different time.
I worry about the things that I am made to fear. I am not sure if some of what I fear is warranted, or if I have just been conditioned by what I have seen and heard. I personally believe the media holds a strong responsibility as to how what it pumps out affects other people.
What effects, if any, do you think the media has had on what we as a society fear?
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Maintaining Eye Contact With People
Although it is not a bad thing to be shy, maybe you want to change the negative consequences of your shyness. I know that my shy nature can make me seem uninterested in other people, and so I wanted to explore the qualities of a shy person that may be misconstrued as "cold" or "distant"- let's take the inability to look someone in the eye.
It can be such an intimate, vulnerable gesture. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul- they sure do FEEL like it, and some of us, we just don't feel comfortable with what someone might see when they look into ours. Here's the problem with letting that fear keep us from maintaining a healthy amount of eye contact: Think about the last time you were with someone who did not look you in the eye a lot, or maybe about a stranger who was staring at you a little too much. How did they come across to you? Did you feel more or less comfortable around them?
I will tell you a few things that have helped me to increase my eye contact with other people, and then to keep a healthy balance of look/look away. This will involve testing your limits, but take a tiny shuffle at a time out of your comfort zone. No one is going to throw you to the dogs, as the pace you keep is dictated by you and you only. The more you practice keeping eye contact, the easier it will become.
- Take a few deep breaths before social interactions. If possible, get your mind on something engaging or calming beforehand. Have a soothing image that you can flip to in your mind as a default, if you find that you have negative thoughts circulating through your head.
- Think and reflect on Why you are afraid of meeting their eyes, exploring the source of your fear. Then think this: "Is my fear realistic?" or "Would I think someone else were silly if they told me they were thinking this?". For example, "I am scared of what they might see when they look at me." Realize that you are no horrible, ghastly monster! People will not be able to read your every thought or scrutinize your every action. What you think of yourself can often give you insight into why you behave the way you do around others.
- Realize that we ourselves do not think about and judge people as harshly as we think they judge us! People are normally more concerned with themselves and their own thoughts than any minuscule flaws in the person they are with. We only see our "flaws" so clearly because we have a front row seat to viewing and feeling them.
- When you are with another person, notice how long this other person is keeping your gaze. We do not Just look into the eyes of a person whom we are talking to, we look around. We pick lint off of our jacket. We look for another subject for the conversation, like the clouds or a house we are passing by. You will find that the amount of eye contact you keep with another person depends on the situation you are in and your relationship with them. Eye contact will also vary in different cultures- sometimes it is seen as more or less respectful to keep someone's gaze. Keeping eye contact for too long to a stranger or to a superior may come off as cocky, invasive and uninviting. Don't look someone in the eye at all, and you seem uninvested in your time with them. Find a healthy medium to your soul-staring.
- Gradually increase/adjust the amount of eye contact you have with other people.
You may be frustrated if you do not see immediate improvement in your abilities. Do not despair, this is a social habit that takes some time to form. You can repeat these actions again and again, and you will find that they will become more automatic. Our bodies get used to how we think and act, and puts our "normal" behaviors on auto-pilot.
If you know someone who has a difficult time maintaining eye contact with you, do not always assume that they do not want to connect with you. You may want to change your body language, tone of voice and intensity to fit with what will make them comfortable or more trusting of you. A small joke or teasing may also lighten the mood.
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to drop em here.
-iNTune
It can be such an intimate, vulnerable gesture. People say that the eyes are the windows to the soul- they sure do FEEL like it, and some of us, we just don't feel comfortable with what someone might see when they look into ours. Here's the problem with letting that fear keep us from maintaining a healthy amount of eye contact: Think about the last time you were with someone who did not look you in the eye a lot, or maybe about a stranger who was staring at you a little too much. How did they come across to you? Did you feel more or less comfortable around them?
I will tell you a few things that have helped me to increase my eye contact with other people, and then to keep a healthy balance of look/look away. This will involve testing your limits, but take a tiny shuffle at a time out of your comfort zone. No one is going to throw you to the dogs, as the pace you keep is dictated by you and you only. The more you practice keeping eye contact, the easier it will become.
- Take a few deep breaths before social interactions. If possible, get your mind on something engaging or calming beforehand. Have a soothing image that you can flip to in your mind as a default, if you find that you have negative thoughts circulating through your head.
- Think and reflect on Why you are afraid of meeting their eyes, exploring the source of your fear. Then think this: "Is my fear realistic?" or "Would I think someone else were silly if they told me they were thinking this?". For example, "I am scared of what they might see when they look at me." Realize that you are no horrible, ghastly monster! People will not be able to read your every thought or scrutinize your every action. What you think of yourself can often give you insight into why you behave the way you do around others.
- Realize that we ourselves do not think about and judge people as harshly as we think they judge us! People are normally more concerned with themselves and their own thoughts than any minuscule flaws in the person they are with. We only see our "flaws" so clearly because we have a front row seat to viewing and feeling them.
- When you are with another person, notice how long this other person is keeping your gaze. We do not Just look into the eyes of a person whom we are talking to, we look around. We pick lint off of our jacket. We look for another subject for the conversation, like the clouds or a house we are passing by. You will find that the amount of eye contact you keep with another person depends on the situation you are in and your relationship with them. Eye contact will also vary in different cultures- sometimes it is seen as more or less respectful to keep someone's gaze. Keeping eye contact for too long to a stranger or to a superior may come off as cocky, invasive and uninviting. Don't look someone in the eye at all, and you seem uninvested in your time with them. Find a healthy medium to your soul-staring.
- Gradually increase/adjust the amount of eye contact you have with other people.
You may be frustrated if you do not see immediate improvement in your abilities. Do not despair, this is a social habit that takes some time to form. You can repeat these actions again and again, and you will find that they will become more automatic. Our bodies get used to how we think and act, and puts our "normal" behaviors on auto-pilot.
If you know someone who has a difficult time maintaining eye contact with you, do not always assume that they do not want to connect with you. You may want to change your body language, tone of voice and intensity to fit with what will make them comfortable or more trusting of you. A small joke or teasing may also lighten the mood.
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to drop em here.
-iNTune
Friday, October 12, 2012
"Be Not Afraid"
(Isaiah 41:10)
Back at my old Catholic church, we were taught to fear our Maker. Fear of God was healthy, we were told. We were not told what was meant by "fear", and I used to imagine all of humanity cowering and shaking beneath the glory of God when the world ended. This image was incongruent with my understanding of a personal, loving God through Jesus. I didn't question it, I just accepted it as something I was not perhaps meant to understand. Now I'm at a point in my life where I find it healthy to question and dissect, so when my pastor began a sermon about "fear of the Lord", I listened in eagerly.
He explained it like this- do not think that the Bible was originally written in English. Scholars believe that Jesus would have spoken in Aramaic. The written language would have been Hebrew, and from there the Bible was translated into other languages, and then re-translated again and again. If we go back to Hebrew and translate the word we printed as "fear", a better translation could have been "awe", "reverence" or "respect".
How would this affect our understanding of the Word of God? Let's take Psalm 112:1 and find out.
"Praise the LORD. Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands."
Sounds very odd, to find delight in doing things for someone you fear. Now let's change the word "fear", and see how different the affect is:
"Praise the LORD. Blessed is the man who respects the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands."
A very different picture entered my mind's eye as the pastor spoke of this: end of the world again, with people bowed down and weeping with joy, overwhelmed at the sight of God.
A little side-story: There was a woman who oversaw my Catechism classes, who was not too friendly with us kids. She used to go one by one and make sure none of us were slouching in our pews, and heaven forbid any of us talked during mass. She would also tell us that if we received the host and chewed it, we were chewing Jesus. Yikes! She told us to let it disintegrate a bit and then to swallow it whole. This led to me being very confused when, in a Protestant church, I was presented with an actual piece of bread for communion.
"Do I... do I chew it? Is it food here?"
Back at my old Catholic church, we were taught to fear our Maker. Fear of God was healthy, we were told. We were not told what was meant by "fear", and I used to imagine all of humanity cowering and shaking beneath the glory of God when the world ended. This image was incongruent with my understanding of a personal, loving God through Jesus. I didn't question it, I just accepted it as something I was not perhaps meant to understand. Now I'm at a point in my life where I find it healthy to question and dissect, so when my pastor began a sermon about "fear of the Lord", I listened in eagerly.
He explained it like this- do not think that the Bible was originally written in English. Scholars believe that Jesus would have spoken in Aramaic. The written language would have been Hebrew, and from there the Bible was translated into other languages, and then re-translated again and again. If we go back to Hebrew and translate the word we printed as "fear", a better translation could have been "awe", "reverence" or "respect".
How would this affect our understanding of the Word of God? Let's take Psalm 112:1 and find out.
"Praise the LORD. Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands."
Sounds very odd, to find delight in doing things for someone you fear. Now let's change the word "fear", and see how different the affect is:
"Praise the LORD. Blessed is the man who respects the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands."
A very different picture entered my mind's eye as the pastor spoke of this: end of the world again, with people bowed down and weeping with joy, overwhelmed at the sight of God.
A little side-story: There was a woman who oversaw my Catechism classes, who was not too friendly with us kids. She used to go one by one and make sure none of us were slouching in our pews, and heaven forbid any of us talked during mass. She would also tell us that if we received the host and chewed it, we were chewing Jesus. Yikes! She told us to let it disintegrate a bit and then to swallow it whole. This led to me being very confused when, in a Protestant church, I was presented with an actual piece of bread for communion.
"Do I... do I chew it? Is it food here?"
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Be Kind Anyway
Both of my cats are getting on in years now. One is 13 (Mario) and the other is 16 (Toby). They have been best friends almost their entire lives.
 |
| Mario |
 |
| Toby |
They are slowing down but getting more affectionate towards people…
NOT towards one another- Mario will sometimes hiss at Toby. In response, Toby will wait patiently for when Mario is in the mood to be nice, and then he will cuddle with him. Toby Always accepts a cuddle from Mario, no matter how cranky Mario has been acting.
Mario is asleep right now. He was hissing at Toby last night, but... Toby just walked quietly up to him and licked his head affectionately, then walked back to his spot.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Your Ministry
“Open my eyes and help me see: there’s a world outside of me.”
| — |
-Hawk Nelson, “Shaken”
My pastor told us a story about an older woman, who was stiff and arthritic. She went to church every Sunday, and someone once asked her, “Why do you keep coming here if it’s hard for you to just get up the steps?”. And she told this man, “If I stop doing these things and just stay at home all day, I’m afraid I’ll die”. She would go to every service that the church would offer.
One day the pastor told everyone that they have a gift to give to others, that they just have to find out what their own personal ministry is. The old woman asked the pastor, “What is my gift?”, and he was stumped. So he told her, “I honestly don’t know, but I will pray on it and let you know what comes to mind in a week”. After a week of meditative prayer, the pastor was still coming up with nothing. Thankfully, the old woman came in the very next Sunday and told him, “Pastor, I’ve found my gift!”. He told her, “That’s wonderful! May I ask what it is?”.
“I call people in my community who I know are shut-ins. I talk to each one of them over the phone, and then call them back the next day. But I only talk to them for 5 minutes a day.”
The pastor was curious. “Why only 5 minutes?”
She smiled up at him and replied, “Because after five minutes, I’m tempted to talk to them about my own problems. I don’t want to do that. I’m calling so that THEY can talk to someone.”
_________________________________
“Lord use me, take me where you want me to go”, sings the chorus of "Shaken". Too often we are absorbed in our own problems, and we forget that there’s a whole world full of people out there. We all have a ministry to share with the world- we just have to figure out what that ministry is. When we all chip in with our own talents to make this world a more loving place, we bring ourselves closer to one another and to the One who made us so beautifully and wonderfully.
|
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Judgement Day
I once read that death is the one thing promised in this life. We all will die- but no one knows what EXACTLY goes on when the soul leaves the body- maybe we can't ever know, or can't comprehend it yet. We also do not know how long we have left to live. Life is unpredictable, whimsical and mysterious. Hey, I could be killed in a freak accident tomorrow that involves a beaver, a large pepperoni pizza and a unicycle. You don't know, I don't know. As twitchy as the human mind is about dying and death, that may be for the best.
Twitchy, itchy brain... my thoughts wandered to the Afterlife at church this morning, and then roamed into The End, the Judgement Day. Both the Judgement and Death are considered an end (or just the beginning, based on your perspective). What if they are closer related than we dare to think?
Say when you are in the process of dying, you go through your own personal judgement day. The living can't see it happen. It's real to you and maybe it's real in the dimension your soul is tip-toeing towards. In that state of being, you see everyone else being judged for their sins as you are. And then, the elevator goes up or down, one more crowded than the other. What I'm saying is what if we die and there is no big wait to be sent to the afterlife?
I had been watching documented cases of near-death experiences on Youtube a month back. A lot of people that were interviewed reported that they were brought into a different state of being, and were shown (presumably by God) how every one of their actions affected other people. They were shown these things not to be made to feel guilty, but to understand.
If you have ever been around someone who is dying, they're not always mentally stable near the end of their lives. They sometimes mumble about memories and their past experiences, sometimes talking to anyone in the room as if they are there with them. Could that be their own personal "judgement" in progress?
It may follow that dementia is an extended state of Judgment. Too far a leap? Let me know what you're thinking!
Twitchy, itchy brain... my thoughts wandered to the Afterlife at church this morning, and then roamed into The End, the Judgement Day. Both the Judgement and Death are considered an end (or just the beginning, based on your perspective). What if they are closer related than we dare to think?
Say when you are in the process of dying, you go through your own personal judgement day. The living can't see it happen. It's real to you and maybe it's real in the dimension your soul is tip-toeing towards. In that state of being, you see everyone else being judged for their sins as you are. And then, the elevator goes up or down, one more crowded than the other. What I'm saying is what if we die and there is no big wait to be sent to the afterlife?
I had been watching documented cases of near-death experiences on Youtube a month back. A lot of people that were interviewed reported that they were brought into a different state of being, and were shown (presumably by God) how every one of their actions affected other people. They were shown these things not to be made to feel guilty, but to understand.
If you have ever been around someone who is dying, they're not always mentally stable near the end of their lives. They sometimes mumble about memories and their past experiences, sometimes talking to anyone in the room as if they are there with them. Could that be their own personal "judgement" in progress?
It may follow that dementia is an extended state of Judgment. Too far a leap? Let me know what you're thinking!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Foster Greyhound Mikey
I will agree with my mom that all dogs are intelligent in different ways. They get the simple things that we tend to look past- like how having food every day is a blessing, and spending time with loved ones is essential, not just an option. But Mikey, intelligent? Oh goodness, just look.
He loves children, so I really home he gets a home where he can be some little kid's best friend. I think that'd be the best home for him.
This is our foster greyhound, Mikey. I have never seen a happier dog. He likes to run and eat and chase and sleep and play and... his tail is like a flagella, constantly twirling around.
Greys do not come off the track with "house" knowledge. They don't know what stairs are, they don't know what GLASS means (I can run straight outside whenever I WANT? Sweet deal!). Despite this, it took only a day for Mikey here to settle into a home environment. But unlike his other greyhound companion here- our dog Taffy- he does not understand "No!". He does not "do" tricks. Trust me, when you have coaxed a dog's paw into the air over a dozen times with a treat reward, that's a sign you have a do-do dog. A "silly" dog, to put it nicely.
He loves children, so I really home he gets a home where he can be some little kid's best friend. I think that'd be the best home for him.Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Efficiency
Lose weight in only 30 days!
Learn Japanese in only a week!
No longer do we have to carry heavy books when we can download them by the thousands! No more wasting an hour mashing potatoes for super, buy instant mashed potatoes! Just add water!
We don't have any time to spare and shouldn't have to make time. We should enjoy ourselves immediately, because we could die tomorrow. Make more money! Watch more movies!
Increasingly alone among billions of our fellow human beings, we strive for the gain resulting from efficiency rather what we're awarded for effort, striving for entertainment rather than companionship. Are we less patient, now that everything should be a click away and isn't my whole night ruined if the internet is slow today? Are we becoming lazier and lonlier, the more the world has to offer to us, the more we have to offer the world?
What is the price of efficiency?
We're problem-solvers. If it can be thought up, it will be attempted, then upgraded. And again, version5.33435435. But I have a sneaking suspicion that we're never really focusing on the right problems.
Learn Japanese in only a week!
No longer do we have to carry heavy books when we can download them by the thousands! No more wasting an hour mashing potatoes for super, buy instant mashed potatoes! Just add water!
We don't have any time to spare and shouldn't have to make time. We should enjoy ourselves immediately, because we could die tomorrow. Make more money! Watch more movies!
Increasingly alone among billions of our fellow human beings, we strive for the gain resulting from efficiency rather what we're awarded for effort, striving for entertainment rather than companionship. Are we less patient, now that everything should be a click away and isn't my whole night ruined if the internet is slow today? Are we becoming lazier and lonlier, the more the world has to offer to us, the more we have to offer the world?
What is the price of efficiency?
We're problem-solvers. If it can be thought up, it will be attempted, then upgraded. And again, version5.33435435. But I have a sneaking suspicion that we're never really focusing on the right problems.
Monday, July 9, 2012
UFOs and Speaking in Tongues
Here's the deal: my brother and I are on vacation, and we were looking for a church to go to down by the shore here. This one was labeled as "nondenominational", and since my brother and I lean towards different Protestant denominations, I thought it'd do just fine. I'd done no research about what "Assembly of God" church meant, but hey, they seemed open and friendly as we walked in. Little children ran around and giggled, their parents with a watchful eye on them as they spoke with old friends. Something about their language was off. They're trying too hard, I thought to myself, and then focused on praying for an open mind and heart during the worship.
Turns out I'd need that.
One of the pastors came forward with a story about his young granddaughter. He compared his granddaughter running back to him and holding his hand on the beach to our style of faith- running back to God when it turns out we need Him after all, to watch over and protect us. Near the end of his speech, there were a few voices rising up with "Amen!" and "Jesus!". I'd only seen that happen on TV, with televangelists. I was not used to people being so vocal about their spiritual experiences.
Then, the music started. Cool-looking band, contemporary gospel music. They weren't terrible, although I wasn't paying full attention to them. I was distracted by the two women with their hands up, swaying back and forth in front of me. I eyed my brother and we both suppressed twin grins, but I went from grinning to gritting my teeth as they repeated the last words of the chorus, for another five minutes. With every song they played, they did the same thing. Little children and adults alike shouted out and danced, and then mumbled unintelligibly once each song was over- what they called speaking in tongues. I couldn't tell you if it was normally what speaking in tongues sounds like, as this was my first experience with it. My brother and I stayed seated and tried not to squirm around. Didn't want to offend the happy church-goers by scrambling out the door.
The band joined the audience, seating themselves right behind us. An older woman with long, straw-like hair took the mic and talked about- gosh, a lot. A few of the girls in the kids programs were moving up to the youth group. They were told that they would make fine "healers", "seers" and "prophesiers". The kids left then, so that the remaining adults could talk about the government, angels and aliens. She kept mentioning "Watchmen" (I could only think about the movie) and how she had these visions and dreams. She had seen UFOs often as a child. She claimed to have had a visitation from Christ Himself. She talked about when she was little and people would start convulsing in church, how she didn't know that there had been demons in them. And she spoke of the fast approach of the End Of Times.
We ran out of there the second she was done. Once we got to my car, we stopped walking as little, confused giggles escaped.
The calm and peace felt by the parishioners, it felt too showy. I felt angry about their claims to heal people with their own, human hands, especially when a woman came forward whose brother was dying of cancer. I glanced at my own brother next to me, thinking the pain of losing him would be unbearable, and that giving hope to that woman that one of the other members would heal him was cruel. I even felt bad for those kids, who were told what their role would be in the church. "You will make a fine seer", they would tell one child. Some of the kids seemed more than happy to comply, others looked dissatisfied.
It was not the kind of church I would want someone newly exploring the Christian faith to go to. Very extreme and extroverted worship styles.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
To Entertain a Dog
I live with my mother in her husband’s house, and sometimes she works from home. Today was one of those days. She was on a call with one of her clients a few minutes ago, and I know we all had to be quiet while she was working, to create the illusion of an office.
One of my dogs looked me in the eye and started to whine.
I didn’t know how to quiet her down, so I did the only thing I could do- handed her my plastic cup full of water. Maybe she would drink it and settle down?
The phone call was still happening, and my distraction wasn’t long enough for a hyperactive 3-year-old dog. Desperate, I put the cup down on the floor. She seemed to like that- in fact, it must’ve been what she was waiting for. She took the cup by the rim in her floppy boxer-jaws and carried it over to the couch.
No, not there! Not there, dog!
She didn’t know what to do with it now, so she let it go. The cup fell a few feet, landed face down, the water pooling on the hardwood floor.
I looked over at my mother in the next room and couldn’t stop giggling. As I brought some paper towels over, our greyhound was so happy that I was happy, wagging her tail excitedly. She licked my face as I laughed harder, mopping up the water before it leaked into the underbelly of the couch.
My dogs might not always do what I want them to do, but without that, life would be far less entertaining.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Passive-aggressive Facebook statuses
I get the need to talk to someone about what is bothering you. No one should just hold in their anger, but to direct something to one person, in front of hundreds of others? Isn't that calling them out for a public shaming?
Would you shout that out to someone else, from across a fairly quiet room? You're leaving the other person feeling so vulnerable, and most likely the crowd around you is merely thinking, "Uh oh, drama!".
There's a veil around us on the internet, as other people can't see our faces, cannot hear our voices shake. Surely we wouldn't say half of what we say here, online, to people's faces?
-iNTune
Friday, February 3, 2012
One of my favorite places to be
Being on the road, windows down and music playing, it's one of my favorite places to be. My dad and I used to drive on like that, and he'd love getting lost just for the sake of adventure. Sometimes he would start singing or whistling, and soon enough, we'd both be singing out some Pearl Jam tune. He'd hang one arm out the window (got stung by a bee while driving once because of it...), tap along to the beat.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Meet Taffy the Greyhound
Greyhounds have been used as racing dogs since the early 1900s. They have a natural urge to run, and can do so at speeds of 35mph. They are the fastest dogs on the planet.
I have never seen a dog that loves to run more than a greyhound, but... this is why I stand against greyhound racing as a sport. It isn't what the dogs are used for, but how the dogs are used on the track.
They are not running in open fields, hopping with the bunnies and butterflies- they are running on circular tracks. Still not too bad, if I stop there. There are some casualties when the dogs are racing, in which legs tangle and jaws snap free of the muzzle.
Peak inside to where the dogs are kept when they are not running. They are walked back to their cages after a race. The wooden or wire cages are stacked on top of each other. Inside, the dog can turn in a small circle, but cannot walk around. There are scraps of paper or carpeting lining crate bottoms- enough to show a minuscule amount of effort, but not enough for a dog to be comfortable, not the conditions you'd want your own pet dogs to be in.
In the shadows, the dogs are thin enough so that one can see a lot of their ribs protruding from their thin build. They are kept at "racing weight", maybe ten pounds under a healthy weight; rescue groups have arrived at the conclusion that ideally, a few ribs should be showing on the dog, the last two or three only.
A couple of times a day, the dogs are taken out of their cages to do their business in a small outdoor enclosure. They are put back in the cages after stretching their legs, until it is eating time, racing time or potty time.
Outside, in the stadiums, people gamble on which dog will win, as the dogs run around the circular track, chasing a lure. If the dogs are injured while racing, they are of no use to the track. Thousands of dogs are killed due to racing injuries at the tracks, every year. This is why rescue groups began to form to save the dogs, worldwide. The groups can take in injured or "retired" racers (aka the dogs that don't win many races). Most dogs are off the track by age four, about when they have passed their peak.
Meet my dog.
Her name is Taffy: racing name "Tailwaggin' Taffy", daughter of champion racer and stud "Trent Lee" and retired racer "Tailwaggin' Tiff".
While my family has rescued greyhounds for over a decade now, she is the first greyhound we have adopted that has little to no track history. She may have never raced, as she was taken off of the track at age two. She has no scars, no peculiar fears; my family's first greyhound, Gracie, did not like having her ears touched. We were told that sometimes the trainers will grab the dogs by the ears.
She sits. Although greyhounds can be taught how to sit (it will look like an awkward crouch), it is not encouraged in their training- nor is barking. I suppose when you have several dozen dogs kept in one room at the track, you don't want them all barking your ears off.
My dog is a happy-go-lucky dog. She likes to go for walks, and loves meeting new people and dogs. She is curious and very loyal, not leaving my side even when I'm just doing yard work. Although she loves to run, she enjoys napping on the couch more- they are not endurance dogs, they sprint around the yard once or twice and are done for the day.
Greyhounds make fantastic pets. They are quiet, good apartment dogs and they are low energy. As long as there is greyhound racing, there is a need for foster parents (who show these dogs what "stairs" are and what "glass" means), and for education on the true, gentle nature of the dogs.
For more information on track life and rescue, contact your local greyhound rescue group.
I have never seen a dog that loves to run more than a greyhound, but... this is why I stand against greyhound racing as a sport. It isn't what the dogs are used for, but how the dogs are used on the track.
They are not running in open fields, hopping with the bunnies and butterflies- they are running on circular tracks. Still not too bad, if I stop there. There are some casualties when the dogs are racing, in which legs tangle and jaws snap free of the muzzle.
Peak inside to where the dogs are kept when they are not running. They are walked back to their cages after a race. The wooden or wire cages are stacked on top of each other. Inside, the dog can turn in a small circle, but cannot walk around. There are scraps of paper or carpeting lining crate bottoms- enough to show a minuscule amount of effort, but not enough for a dog to be comfortable, not the conditions you'd want your own pet dogs to be in.
In the shadows, the dogs are thin enough so that one can see a lot of their ribs protruding from their thin build. They are kept at "racing weight", maybe ten pounds under a healthy weight; rescue groups have arrived at the conclusion that ideally, a few ribs should be showing on the dog, the last two or three only.
A couple of times a day, the dogs are taken out of their cages to do their business in a small outdoor enclosure. They are put back in the cages after stretching their legs, until it is eating time, racing time or potty time.
Outside, in the stadiums, people gamble on which dog will win, as the dogs run around the circular track, chasing a lure. If the dogs are injured while racing, they are of no use to the track. Thousands of dogs are killed due to racing injuries at the tracks, every year. This is why rescue groups began to form to save the dogs, worldwide. The groups can take in injured or "retired" racers (aka the dogs that don't win many races). Most dogs are off the track by age four, about when they have passed their peak.
Her name is Taffy: racing name "Tailwaggin' Taffy", daughter of champion racer and stud "Trent Lee" and retired racer "Tailwaggin' Tiff".
While my family has rescued greyhounds for over a decade now, she is the first greyhound we have adopted that has little to no track history. She may have never raced, as she was taken off of the track at age two. She has no scars, no peculiar fears; my family's first greyhound, Gracie, did not like having her ears touched. We were told that sometimes the trainers will grab the dogs by the ears.
She sits. Although greyhounds can be taught how to sit (it will look like an awkward crouch), it is not encouraged in their training- nor is barking. I suppose when you have several dozen dogs kept in one room at the track, you don't want them all barking your ears off.
My dog is a happy-go-lucky dog. She likes to go for walks, and loves meeting new people and dogs. She is curious and very loyal, not leaving my side even when I'm just doing yard work. Although she loves to run, she enjoys napping on the couch more- they are not endurance dogs, they sprint around the yard once or twice and are done for the day.
Greyhounds make fantastic pets. They are quiet, good apartment dogs and they are low energy. As long as there is greyhound racing, there is a need for foster parents (who show these dogs what "stairs" are and what "glass" means), and for education on the true, gentle nature of the dogs.
For more information on track life and rescue, contact your local greyhound rescue group.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)