PW OPINION EDITORIAL
PW NEWS
PW DINING
PW ARTS
•CONSIDER THIS•
EXECUTIVE EDITOR
Christina Fuoco-Karasinski christina@timespublications.com
Living isn’t for the faint of heart
DEPUTY EDITOR
Luke Netzley lnetzley@timespublications.com CONTRIBUTOR
Ellen Snortland ART
By Ellen Snortland Pasadena Weekly Columnist
ART DIRECTOR
Stephanie Torres storres@timespublications.com PHOTOGRAPHER
Chris Mortenson
ASSOCIATE PUBLISHER ZAC REYNOLDS
Zac@TimesPublications.com (626) 360-2811 ADVERTISING SALES AND MARKETING
Lisa Chase For Advertising Information Call (626) 360-2811 CLASSIFIED ACCOUNT EXECUTIVE
Ann Turrietta (Legals) BUSINESS OFFICE MANAGER
Ann Turrietta
TIMES MEDIA GROUP PRESIDENT
Steve Strickbine VICE PRESIDENT, CHIEF REVENUE OFFICER
Michael Hiatt
Pasadena Weekly is published every Thursday. Pasadena Weekly is available free of charge. No person may, without prior written permission from Pasadena Weekly, take more than one copy of each weekly issue. Additional copies of the current issue if available may be purchased for $1, payable in advance, at Pasadena Weekly office. Only authorized Pasadena Weekly distributors may distribute the Pasadena Weekly. Pasadena Weekly has been adjudicated as a newspaper of general circulation in Court Judgment No. C-655062. Copyright: No news stories, illustrations, editorial matter or advertisements herein can be reproduced without written permission of copyright owner. All rights reserved, 2021.
HOW TO REACH US Address: PO Box 1349, South Pasadena CA 91030 Telephone: (626) 584-1500 Fax: (626) 795-0149
AUDITED CIRCULATION of 26,275 Serving Alhambra, Altadena, Arcadia, Eagle Rock, Glendale, La Cañada Flintridge, Montrose, Pasadena, San Marino, Sierra Madre and South Pasadena
O
rdinarily, I advocate embracing one’s age and aging in general. However, I have a caveat: I hate aging in pets. Hate it. The only blessing I can find in (most likely) outliving my pets is that it gives me practice in loss and grieving. If we’re fortunate, the older we get, the more we deal with miles of loss and grief. Speaking of grief, I experienced the profound and shocking loss of a close human friend right before Christmas. I’m submitting the following unpublished column from 2020, as I can’t focus enough to write a new piece. The sentiment is appropriate. August 2020 — We euthanized our toy poodle, Oso, during the lockdown. He lived for an astounding 17 years. In human years, that’s an ancient 119. And I have to say it: Oso was a jerk, yet I loved him. Hey, someone has to love jerks, right? I got him in July 2003, four days after my mother’s death in Rapid City, South Dakota. The only thing I could imagine comforting me at the time was to get a puppy. I looked through the Rapid City Journal ads section and came home with a tiny, fluffy white poodle only 8 weeks old and recently weaned. He looked exactly like a small Teddy Bear, so I named him Oso… Spanish for “bear.” He turned out to be the least comforting mammal I’ve ever been around. Ever. I suspected something was off with him the night I brought him home, as he refused to snuggle with me. I’d never had a puppy who refused to cuddle before. Hmm. As Oso matured, I realized consent applies to pets, too. I wouldn’t force him to let me hug him. He wouldn’t sit on my lap, so I didn’t make him. I make a “until death do us part” pact with my critters, although I suppose there would have been people who wouldn’t have blamed me for “re-homing” him. But I just couldn’t reject him for being nonaffectionate. Just like my mom! And then, the biting started. Oso was not only cold, he could be dangerous. For 16 years, I had to be on guard to make sure people didn’t rush up to pet him while on our walks. “Watch out! He bites!” And boy, could he bite. At this point, you may be wondering what the benefit was of having Oso around. When Ken, my sweetheart and eventual husband, had double-replacement knee surgery in 2007, I had to be out of town. Ken kept Oso for me, and Oso would jump up on Ken’s hospital bed and stay at his feet. Oso guarded him, day and night: He’d found his calling! Oso was a fighter and a protector, not a lover! Indeed, the first night Ken and I shared a bed, Oso jumped in between us. When Ken leaned over to kiss me, Oso chomped right on his nose and drew blood. Ouch. When we could finally appreciate Oso for his gift, we saw just how, er, doggedly he used it for our benefit. He constantly patrolled the property, sniffing around the fences, barking at the merest sound of something rustling in the brush. If other animals or people came to visit, he did his best to keep them away from us. When he got mostly deaf and blind starting at around 15, he literally sat in Ken’s office doorway to ensure the riffraff would not intrude. I finally put my finger on his personality. If dogs can be on the autism spectrum, that’s precisely where Oso’s neuro-atypical actions would exist. Hey, if humans can have variable brain wiring, so can other critters, right? Oso is survived by his Havanese sister, Bella, and his Chihuahua-Dachshund mix brother, Bucco. Oso and Bucco never cared for one another, not one little bit. We named him Bucco because Oso and Bucco sounded yummy. Bucco wasn’t laughing. Later we res-
cued Bella, one of the only creatures Oso would ever play with. They actually played… but only when they thought we weren’t looking! That should tell you something about who Bella is. Everyone misses Oso. Ken and I swear we’ve seen him out of the corner of our eyes. I do not, however, miss his chronic pissing. For the past three years, he lifted his leg on anything vertical. Year after year, Ken and I ran around the house with spray and rags. People suggested that we euthanize him for peeing. I just couldn’t. I also pray that if I become incontinent, my caretakers do not put me down. Since Oso’s departure, we’ve noticed that Bucco and Bella are more relaxed. Ken figured out that they were always on edge because of Oso’s crabby nature. They are now free from waiting for the other paw to drop. I hate aging in pets. And, to truly love, one must face sorrow as deep as that love. Yes, we miss Oso. RIP — Rest in Patrol, not Rest in Pee — my little spectrum doggy. Ellen Snortland has written “Consider This…” for a heckuva long time, and she also coaches first-time book authors! Contact her at ellen@beautybitesbeast.com.
•CARTOON•
We want to hear from you!
Being in print is a lot more meaningful than grouching on Facebook. Send compliments, complaints and insights about local issues to christina@timespublications.com.
4 PASADENA WEEKLY | 12.30.21
PW-12.30.31.indd 4
12/28/21 3:51 PM
