Inside of a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz.

"Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."
-Groucho Marx.


This book was pretty good, but not for the reasons you'd expect. I'm not gonna say I didn't learn some stuff. But what I really enjoyed was the style. This is a woman who is passionate about her love of animals.

She narrated chapters based on the perspective of her personal dog. (Personal dog... I like the way that sounds. I'm leaving it. Just sayin'.) It gets pretty technical at times and

  she references  “anyone who wants to understand the life of an animal must begin by considering what he called their umwelt . . . : their subjective or ‘self-world.’ ”

I also really liked how she explained the technical differences between the actual perception of a human and a dog by both fairly straightforward scientifically based comparison and more poetic comparisons, like the experience of a rose to a human versus the experience of a rose to a dog. There are obviously other instances, such as the difference between our style vision and theirs, but you know. I'm not gonna go on all night.


She also refuses to accept the Cesar Milan Dog Whisperer style school of "accepted" knowledge that dogs are pack animals and therefore the way to gain their respect is to become the Alpha of all Alphas. She points out that being domesticated has separated dogs from their more wild bretheren, such as wolves, and creates unites that are more cooperative and family-like than constant competition and vying for top spot.


There were times when she tried too hard not to be overly scientific and other times where I really loved the off the wall details she threw in.


Either way. Pretty good book.

On Being Less Than Ideal As A Blogger.

I know, I know. I'm like everyone else. I start this blog, I'm really enthusiastic about it and I think, goddamn. I'm awesome. I'm gonna write every day! I'm going to make a million entries! I'm going to be a motherfucking blog ROCKSTAR.

But then I do not have the internet at my house and it's difficult to find time to go someplace public and just sit and type for several hours. (shameless plug: this post is sponsored by the delightful Chat Room Pub in Fort Worth, TX! Thanks, Chat Room. I love you.)

I also am in my midtwenties and therefore my life is either a series of projects or obstacles that require much more energy than anyone in any other age group would reasonably place towards said projects and obstacles. So. There comes in the emotional availability.

So. I'll not say I'm sorry, because when I'm not writing these blogs, I'm out loving people, rescuing animals, having drinks with my buddies, crying my eyes out over guys who may or may not matter in years, recruiting people to my recently re-formed book club and generally having the time of my life. And the best part is, like writing these book blogs, I know this is just part of something so huge and special that I am ridiculously grateful to experience.

I started this blog, honestly, to get over a break up. And it has taken me places I would not have expected. I wish I kept up better. I wish I actually could keep track of every single book I read. But I love what I've done. I've loved the books I've read, I've loved having something to keep focused on.

So I won't apologise for not being great at keeping up with every damn reaction. I'm not sorry that I don't always remember exactly what I wanted to say because I've read too many other books since then and the emotions aren't fresh. I guess this is about as realistic of a picture as you're gonna get for something that is by nature, a product you're creating for others' consumption.

I'm gonna shut up now. I'm getting a little "livejournal" on ya'll. But still. Know that I'm happy. And books are awesome.