If You Can Get Your Dog's Teeth Cleaned, You Can Afford Donating to Human Dental Care

I was asked today in a survey if I have my dog's teeth cleaned at the vet's.

My answer was polite but an emphatic "No."

But if I love Marley, why wouldn't I?

This is the start of a screed because, to me, paying to have my dog's teeth cleaned is just another sign that we live in a dying, teetering hulk of a culture.

Marley's a dog. Of course, humankind's first and best friend among the animals but let me repeat, he's a dog.

First off, do wolves have their teeth cleaned? No. Why? I mean, besides the obvious of the cost and difficulty of getting one into the vet in the first place.

Because they don't need it. Their diet, which includes chewing through hide and bones (regularly scrubbing their pearly whites), makes the practice irrelevant.

Same for Canis Domesticus although I grant a Pug is about as far removed from a wolf as Homo Sapiens is from Australopithecus.

I see commercial after commercial on TV, touting the latest "balanced" dog food that includes vegetables and every other enticement to hook humans but have little to nothing to do with required canine nutrition. Of course, feeding a dog a human diet will result in dental problems among other things. If a dog is fed correctly and allowed to chew rawhide toys and bones, their teeth should last them through their lives. And be white enough, dammit.

This doesn't mean that doggy dentition should be ignored. Of course not. Disease and injury should be promptly and effectively handled just like any other medical problem.

The veterinary industry has managed to provide the pet-owning segment of the population one more useless service as a solution to a manufactured problem. Even my own father, who at 90 years old should know better, regularly has Fritz' teeth cleaned. At $40 per cleaning.

And, seriously, unless you're there holding Fido's head, do you have any assurance that the vet accomplished any good at all?

But it's symptomatic and totally in keeping with the trends of American pet ownership. I hear more and more people comfortable with being called their pet's "Mommy" or "Daddy." I love Marley but I ain't no damned dog's "Daddy."

However, I will concede, living in Madison where there are mobile vet clinics, ambulances for pets, and pet funeral services available, this really isn't the worst of the gross and squalid wastes of money on animals. My personal favorite, although I haven't seen it here in Madison, is the Poop Patrol where you can have your pockets fleeced by a service because you're too damned lazy to pick up after your pet.

Last, it seems to me if Fido's "Mommy" or "Daddy" have the income to pay for regular tooth cleaning, they really ought to be donating that money to helping human children get elementary dental care.

Liberals Fear Snow!

"It's true. I'm absolutely fearless except for this one small thing," said Lindsey Bowden quietly, "I can prove it. I've never voted a split ticket in my life. I had a Nader bumper sticker before anyone else. I was donating to Oxfam before it became trendy. I tried Australian wines when no one else would. I bought my first Pottery Barn vase in 1991. I've marched in pro-abortion rallies. I've never even thought of supporting a Republican."

But the "this one small thing" that the 42-year-old social worker from Middleton, WI, fears has come upon her as it does every year at this time - driving on snowy roads.

"I just cringe when it gets to be November. I just curl into a ball when the weather report comes up with snow," she added, "I just know that I'm just going to be terrified in the morning. I have to extend my yoga routine for an hour just to be able to sleep."

However, like the thousands of other liberals who feel and behave as she does, the white, divorced mother of one child gets into her Subaru with its obligatory Obama-Biden, I Brake for Animals and Darwin bumper stickers on these winter mornings.

Then, like the thousands of other liberals who feel and behave as she does, she puts on her seatbelts, locks the doors, puts her free-trade-organic-beans-ground-that-morning coffee in the cupholder, turns on National Public Radio and makes sure there aren't any squirrels in the driveway behind her.

Lindsey then joins the thousands of other liberals who feel and behave as she does in their Subarus with their own set of obligatory declarations of liberal fealty on the highway.

There, like the thousands of other liberals who feel and behave as she does, she drives at what she calls a "safe and sane 37 miles per hour," regardless of weather conditions. Or traffic. Or posted speed limits. Or common sense.

"It's hard," she admits, "I know I'm not doing the popular thing. All of those SUVs with the 'W' stickers zoom by me, shaking their fists or giving me the finger. I can see their mouths moving and I know they're saying all sorts of unkind things. It hurts but, deep down, I know I'm doing the right thing."

WTF on "Quality of Life"

News Flash: children of Baby Boomers will not have the quality of life that their parents did.

WTF?

Seriously, what do we mean by "quality of life"? How can that concept be meaningfully applied across generations and among groups of people? Certainly demographers, sociologists, and politicians dance on the head of that pin constantly but that doesn't make them right.

Problem is that "quality of life" seems to be popularly translated into "how much stuff can I possibly accumulate just because it's new or my friends don't have it regardless of my ability to pay for it or the costs to the environment."

The holiday season, especially Christmas, crystallizes this distinction with frighteningly clarity. We're called on to buy-buy-buy so that the thirsts of our collective "quality of life" can be slaked.

If a high "quality of life" demands slavering, blind entitlement to the next big (usually expensive) thing that some advertiser has bamboozled you into believing you need, then by all means, join the herd of cattle who trample a Wal-Mart worker to death on Black Friday.

If a slip in "quality of life" translates into having only a 42, 46, and 48-inch flat panel Plasma TV from each of eight different manufacturers to choose from, then I'm all for that fall.

If the body politic's "quality of life" is dependent on being able to choose from a slew of SUVs all with abysmal MPG ratings, then I willingly seek a drop in "quality of life."

If "quality of life" means that I have to save up for an item, rather than heedlessly put it on a credit card, then put me down as a self-denying ascetic.

If "quality of life" is tied to having the "Poop Patrol" come to my home to scoop up my dog's excrement (for a price) or if I have to get someone come to my home to sanitize my garbage cans (for a price) then, great, fine, count me among the economic Luddites.

If a slip in "quality of life" means even fewer people can get meaningful healthcare at an affordable price, then that's a tragedy and not a slip I'm willing to accept.

If "quality of life" means acceptance of poisonous air and water, then that's also not acceptable.

If "quality of life" entails a selfish, callous disregard for the planet and the fragile systems on which we all depend, well, is that really a question?

My Journey of Hope

My journey? Do I dare to answer this series of questions honestly? This journey has been one of hope – hope that I would eventually, actually get to information/skills/techniques that helped to fulfill my responsibility in workforce development as a teacher. The class description was particularly intriguing as I had thought it would be the capstone to my classwork and provide some needed insights/skills/techniques that would be directly applicable to my research project.

That is, what are my responsibilities as a teacher attempting to guide a class drawn from a population that is:
· Increasingly diverse in its ethnicities and cultures
· Respectful of the continuing progress of women in the workplace
· Respectful of language considerations
· Respectful of religious considerations?

I’m pretty sure that hope was not fully realized. Feeling that I had not done my "due diligence," I went back and read the entire catalog entry for the course this morning. In retrospect, I guess the entry should have warned me otherwise. Certainly, Becky went out of her way to provide alternate assignments for the pre-secondary classmates. That was definitely appreciated and valuable.

Perhaps it's always been a question of definition and certainly "workforce development" has been a social and political football since the phrase was first used. Indeed, Wisconsin government used the phrase as its "cloak" for welfare reform in the middle 90's. I did a cursory search on the Internet and it seems the phrase is nearly exclusively used in terms of adult employees and skills/attitudes required in the workplace. Conversely, I did not get a single "hit" that linked "workforce development" with elementary grades.

I am also not conscious of a particular "process" in my use of time, my use of Stout resources, or interaction with Becky and the rest of the class. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this journey has been without value. This course has been a fine review of skills and techniques that I had previously had exposure to. The interaction with a fascinating and diverse group of people has been especially valuable.

In particular, I have kept and will apply the "outcomes" from Module 3 - Rigorous and Relevant Questions and Module Four: Team-based Problem Solving & Inquiry. These two modules had the most pointed and directly applicable skills/techniques that I can apply to teaching adults. As I indicated for Module 3, questions are my professional life and any means of increasing my ability (and hence my students' ability) to ask incisive questions and get incisive answers is a benefit.