MEIN KLEIN SHREKHUND

Which, is to say, my sweet little dog, aka Ol Wheezy, aka Chubbers, aka Bear, aka Piggy, aka Little Bitch, aka Mein Klein Shrekhund, otherwise known as Attila.

Attila came into my life by pure happenstance, also by a mother who could not knowingly leave a tiny four-week old 1/2 chihuahua 1/2 poodle mix with a family that would most certainly destroy it within two months (and if they didn't, the busy highway feet from their front stoop most surely would have).

I came home one day (not too long after moving back from new york) to find my mother sitting on a chair, saying, "well, I've either done a very wonderful thing or a really terrible thing...either way, you've got a dog now b/c [your father] will kill me if I bring a new dog into this house."

The next day she and I went to pick up this adorable little puppy dog.* This tiny black bundle of fur fit snuggly into the palm of my hand (literally) and I lost my heart to him. All sorts of motherly-type instincts kicked in while caring for this too-small to be believed puppy. Of course, with good comes bad, and I spent several months not going too far from home and countless times cleaning up my puppy's waste, and all the little things he'd chew on, and listening for him to see if he was either A: using the bathroom somewhere in the house or B: chewing up something he shouldn't be. (Needless to say, all the bad re-confirmed my decision to [hopefully] remain childless.)

Attila remained nameless for a few weeks while I tried to come up with something clever that suited his personality. One night I took him to a bonfire-gathering my friends were having to celebrate their graduation/going away from our tiny close-minded town and one of them picked him up after hearing me tell about how this five pound dog is somehow managing to knock over his little gate in the hallway and said, "well, you're just like Attila-the-Hun is all!" And preceded to inform me that the all-conquering Hun was a fairly small-sized man. (I want to say around 4'5'' but it could be 5'2''....I don't remember anymore) and the name stuck to my sweet and yet very destructive puppy-dog.


Attila is a wonderful little doggie. He's really not all the bright, but he's so sweet, it makes up for it. The dog has no concept of stranger, it's simply "FRIEND!!!" or "POTENTIAL FRIEND!!!" he even likes other dogs too, but if there's too many of them he'll go far away from the rough play and just watch them (to be fair, most of my friend's dogs are larger-sized breeds) and occasionally run into the fray to chase and be chased and then run back to his little spot and continue watching.

He's traveled from my parent's house to the shitty apartment complex I lived in while I finished college, back to my parent's house, and now to the house SO and I live in. He such a great little dog that wants nothing more than to have his belly rubbed all day long. His favourite words are, "want a bellyrub?" (and he'll fall onto his back and spread his legs, the little whore) and "alright, let's get a treat!" (to which, he'll make a beeline for the kitchen and sit in front of the shelf where he knows his treats are kept).

I could write so much on my little Attila, how his fur grows out until he's just this black cottonball that runs around my house, or how he loves to "talk" to us in the morning, or how whenever he's playing "rope" he'll growl as he pulls. . . . .so much about mein klein shrekhund, but I must quit here for now.

*I SWEAR! As soon as I get my computer, I plan on posting lots and lots of superfluous pictures of everything around me. (I feel like a terrible photographer, to have a blog and not a single picture posted).

The Shining, Fahrenheit 451, and Siddhartha

Due to lack of my own computer (hopefully, not for long!) and SO having no desire as yet to posess one, my blogging is lacking. Also, I meant this to be a blog with an occasional book review to keep up with my readings; however it's seemed to turn into a book review with occasional spurts of life-blogging. I promise to write a non-book-related blog very soon.
With the short amount of time I've got, here are three books in one post that I've read over the past couple of weeks:


The Shining by Stephen King
I admit, that I'm not a willing fan of Stephen King's work...but it's like a friend of mine says, "he writes so much, that he's bound to write some truly great books...and some really awful pieces of shit as well." This book was surprisingly very good, and also very scary.
I love the movie, LOVE IT. One of my favourites. The book doesn't even come close to the movie. Cannot even conceive of the movie. You learn so much more about the Torrance family, about little Danny and about the history of the hotel. There are parts in it that are very Stephen King-y, which is to say a bit....unbelievable; but overall, it is an extremely good book. And unlike most book-movie combinations this one did not affect my opinion of the other. They are so similar, and yet still so very different, that there is nothing for me to be upset about (surprising, huh?).


Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
This is one of those books that everybody is supposed to have read, and yet I somehow managed to go through my entire school and college career without ever picking it up.
I've read a lot of distopias, and even more general fiction novels. And quite honestly, I thought this book was mediocre. I can see why it is required literature for middle and high schoolers, the whole point being that nobody reads any more and it becomes the law for no one to own any books. But to me, this book was on par with a creative essay from a college student about the ignorance of society. Plus, I have a hard time labeling a book as a distopia when it ends with hope. The man character's name is Guy, which I consider a throwback to Everyman--which also equals great amounts of cheese to me. Everything about this book just seemed so very corny to me, with the exception of the title (if it's true), I love that the title of the book is the temperature at which books will burn.
As a side note, there was a movie made in 1966, but I've not watched it and there are rumors that a new Fahrenheit movie will begin filming sometime next year. (Which, a movie about a book, that is about how people watch tv/movies instead of reading is terribly ironic.)


Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse
Also, this is one of those books that people just assume that I've read--especially after I tell someone a little bit about my beliefs. I've never read a damn word of the thing until a few days ago. This is a book about eastern philosophies during the time of the Buddha written by a Swiss (some say German) poet in the 1950s. Although very simplistic in its writing style, the book presents a pretty good overview of the eastern way of religious thought--kind of like an Eastern Doctrines for Dummies. Or it's perhaps mine and my sister's fascination with all religions that make the explanations seem so simplistic to me.
The book follows Sidhartha (the main character) throughout his adult life as he tries to find an explanation for why we are on earth. He studies and learns from everybody he meets and eventually realizes that the Self he is trying to escape in order to find the bigger meaning, is actually what life is all about.
Overall, I thought it was a pretty decent little book (a novella? perhaps it could be called) and would definitely recommend it for anybody trying to find some sort of faith to follow.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

After reading two pretty serious books, I decided to go with something significantly lighter. Now, I've read this book before, but it was a long time ago and it is so very funny.
Two famous sci-fi authors collaborated for this hilarious account of the end of times. There are many points of view narration throughout the book. The characters in the book are really magnificent. There is the demon Crowley who also happens to have started out as the tempter-snake at the beginning of times, his enemy/friend-if-you-can-call-it-that-since-they've-been-together-since-the-beginning-of-time is the flaming sword wielding (or did until he gave it to the first two humans) angel Aziraphale. There is the antichrist, whose misplacement is what the plot is set around, a phophetess and a few witch-hunters. The story is takes place in mondern-day England (or rather, by some dated references, mid-90s England). There are so very many funny quips throughout the who book, that I'd really hate to give it away by giving any examples. The book is also full of footnotes, about the character's past or in one case, "for any Americans who happen to be reading this" to explain some English traits.
One of my favourite parts is how they managed to modernize the Biblical apocalypse. The four horsemen of the apocalypse are actually, two men, one woman, and Death, and pestilance has been replaced by the significantly younger and quipier (word?) Pollution; oh yes, and they ride motorcycles instead of horses.
Without giving away all the funny bits, or the end of the book. Suffice to say that it is a wonderfully funny little book.
(oh, yes, and for nearly a decade, Terry Gilliam [wonderful work!] has shown great interest in directing the movie)