The Caring Game

I remember listening to a lecture in college where the professor outlined the basic human needs. I believe he mentioned only four. Shelter and food were the big ones; the other two have slipped my mind. They focused on the human being itself; nothing was mentioned about a need to care for [other objects].

There are times I muse as to whether this need affects us all, or only certain parties of the human race -- but then my eyes are pried open, so that they can see.

I was in the area known as 1/2 ghetto, 1/2 Gold Coast one afternoon when I spotted something of note. A woman of about 65. She appeared both elegant and deranged at the same time. She was in animal print. Taking up too much of the sidewalk. Wearing shades on a shady day. And when I thought I was passing her and a load of her grandchildren in a sporty stroller, I was really passing her and her 2 teacup chihuauhas. Tiny snouts were behind that soft, plexi-glass like substance used as a safety screen on strollers. She was toting them around. They were free from strain, traffic and possible rain. Kings on a lifted throne. This absurd image was her personal rendition of care.

She may have never had kids, or they may simply have flown the coop. She may have lost a husband -- or 3. The stroller told me these canines were her family. An extension of herself, and an outlet for her love. If there is one thing I have observed, it is that without the chance to care for some other thing, the esssence of being human dies.

And so I have come to life, in caring for Bela. I may not have the stroller (and believe me, she DOES NOT WANT IT) -- but I've bought more dog novelties than I thought I ever would. Each new purchase represents my eagerness to care for her needs. All of the absurd dog products cleverly tap into our need to take care. I'm not exactly sure how this dog-Gatorade is going to enhance her life, but it is my duty and joy to try for that...so....here's my $10 -- thank you for the opportunity to Add More.

We don't all go the same route in our care, for sure. We can choose inanimate objects or ones that breathe, but our paths run a parallel course. Desire, acquire, then obsess, acting as curator.

It would be easy to dismiss that Chihauhua-woman and call her crazed. But she's me. She's you. She's him with-his-fiftythousanddollar-car and her with-her-ornate-jewelry-collection. Our boundaries differ, but always fall just outside the lines we initally drew.

And last night, ((I dreamt)) I booked Bela on a cruise.