A couple of days ago, we got the news that Arran’s lymphoma is B cell type. This is somewhat good news, as B cell canine lymphoma typically responds better to treatment than T cell lymphoma does. The sickness that results from B cell lymphoma is also not necessarily as severe as T cell lymphoma is.
Mood music for this. Fantastic instrumental of a classic gospel song.
Our original plan was to let Arran live out the rest of his days and try to keep him comfortable. But last night, after speaking to the vet, we decided that maybe we should try chemotherapy with him. Although he is an old dog, he’s still very much alive and vibrant. He still wants to play, take walks, snuggle with Bill, and eat. He’s really close to his tenth anniversary with us. That would take place January 12, 2023. I would be thrilled if he could hang on for that long.
Canine chemotherapy is not like it is for humans. It can cause some side effects in dogs, but it’s not nearly as awful for dogs as it is for people, because the dosages of the medicines are much smaller and work more to suppress symptoms than effect cures. Arran is already about 13 or 14 years old, which is why we originally thought we’d just let him pass. But he really seems to want to live. Last night, we went down to the weekly market for about 45 minutes. When we came back, Arran was dancing around, welcoming us home. He jumped up on the bench with Bill and snuggled with him. He simply isn’t ready to die yet.
Watch Arran… he doesn’t act like he’s about to die.
Our 20th wedding anniversary is coming up on November 16th. We were hoping to do something special, but if Arran is getting chemo, we can’t very well send him to the Hundepension. So, last night, I made a four night reservation in Ribeauville, France, which is one of our favorite getaways. We know the guy who owns the apartment. He’s very dog friendly. We’ll just bring the boys with us. If we manage to go on this break, it will be Noyzi’s first time going anywhere with us. That apartment in France will be good for that. I can cancel without penalty before October 16th. Hopefully, Bill can get the time off, and both dogs will be able to travel. We’ve been to Ribeauville so many times that I don’t care if we just hang out in the apartment. We’ve already seen a lot of what’s there. I just want some wine and macaroons. If we go to Alsace, we can get some French goodies and be somewhere else on our big day.
I’ve often mentioned that my dogs teach me new things all the time. That is definitely true, as based only on Zane’s experience with lymphoma, I would assume that it’s always a dreadful, devastating disease for dogs. But even though lymphoma killed Zane very quickly, his death was still much better than the deaths our other dogs have had. And in Arran’s case, it looks like we can even forestall it for awhile. Statistics show that CHOP therapy for canine lymphoma, if started early enough, can help 80 to 90 percent of dogs achieve temporary remission, especially if they have B cell lymphoma, which is what Arran has.
We’re not expecting a miracle. I’d just like him to celebrate ten years with us. And again… he obviously WANTS to live. Look at him!
This was just yesterday.
The vet says he will need to be catheterized, which could be a problem if he can’t tolerate it. Then he will have nine weekly rounds of chemo, then it will go to monthly for up to a year. I don’t expect him to last a year, but who knows? He might surprise us.
We’ll see what happens. I just want, for once, to be able to do something when canine cancer strikes. Maybe all that will happen is the vet will get more experience in treating cancer in dogs. That’s worth something too, isn’t it? And an added bonus… my Mini Cooper will finally get driven again, and Noyzi will learn how to entertain himself at home, as I accompany Arran to his appointments.
Fuck cancer. This time, maybe we’ll put up a fight.
I know there’s so much in the world I could write about today, but I’m just not ready to write about things in Ukraine, the MAGA cult’s desperate attempts to hang on to relevance, Lizzo’s awesome flute playing, or Trump’s ridiculous bullshit. Today, I want to write about our sweet Arran, who apparently did fine at the Hundepension.
Bill went to get Arran and Noyzi last night at the appointed pick up time. I’m sure he was nervous about what he was going to find out when he got the boys, or the condition Arran was going to be in. But, as it turned out, Arran did fine. He had diarrhea one day, and wasn’t all that interested in his food that day. After that, he was more like himself. He does look like he might have lost some weight, which he needed to do anyway. For so many years, Arran was a very fit dog, but in the past year, he’s put on some weight. It could be the cancer doing this, but it’s nice to see him with more of a figure, even if it’s temporary.
Bill said Arran really liked the male caretaker at the pension– someone we don’t know yet. The pension has recently changed ownership, although the same staff is there. I get the sense that the old owner is up there in years and ready to retire, and maybe he sold the business to someone younger who worked there. I don’t know, but I’m grateful that they took good care of our boys. Noyzi absolutely adores Natasha. He goes nuts when he sees her.
Both dogs were excited when Bill showed up, and it took a few minutes to get them on leashes because of the reunion happy dance. When they got home, Arran was running around the house, rubbing against all the furniture, no doubt marking it with his scent. He ate some food quite eagerly, said hello to me, then jumped up on the bed for a nap.
Obviously, Arran still has cancer, and he’s going to probably get test results today. That will determine what, if any, treatment he’ll get. We’re both thinking we’d like to make him comfortable, given his advanced age. What that will mean remains to be seen. He’ll go see the vet tomorrow. I know we don’t have much time left, but it made me feel so much better to see that he did okay during our trip. He’s our little ass kicker, much like our old dog, Flea, was.
This morning, Arran even got up with Bill and ate all of his breakfast. He went outside, did his business, and is now sprawled out on Bill’s side of the bed, sleeping. He’ll probably come in here in a few hours and ask for a walk. This is the most bittersweet part of having a dog in your life. For years, he’s rewarded us with loyalty, devotion, and undying love for us. It’s a privilege to make sure he ends his extraordinary, but too short, life in the best way… for as long as it takes.
And actually… now that I’ve written about our amazing Arran, I do want to make a statement about Lizzo and her crystal flute performance. I managed to hear the whole thing yesterday, and I thought Lizzo played beautifully. I am excited to see her igniting passion for music in young people. At least one of my friends reported that thanks to Lizzo’s historic turn with a 209 year old crystal flute, once owned by President James Madison, her daughter wants to learn how to play the flute. That is priceless!
I think she plays quite beautifully… better than I do, anyway.
It saddens me to read so many awful comments about Lizzo– everything from body shaming to comments about how she’s a “mediocre” flute player and shouldn’t be allowed to play such a “special” instrument. That flute was meant to be played, and Lizzo is far from being a “mediocre” musician. I think the issue is, a lot of uptight, conservative, white people want to see people like Lizzo kept down in what they think is her “place”. They should all go fuck themselves until they’re dead. Check out some of these disgusting reactions!
Why is she wearing that! I think it’s great that she’s proud of her obesity but now I’m blind!
There are many great flute players who have never even touched that instrument. Why her? She is at best mediocre. This instrument should have been left alone. It’s an American heirloom, a gem, that should be where all other historical items belong – protected and preserved.
Special talent? Ummmm you know there’s thousands of kids playing this in band right?
BUT THE DISRESPECT SHE GENERATES IS NO FUN AT ALL. KEEP YOU KIDS AWAY FROM HER!!!!
Have some class and stop twerking all the time especially with a classy peice of history
And it goes on and on… People have the right to their opinions, of course, but I think it’s sad that they have to show everybody how awful they are on social media. Personally, I thought Lizzo was amazing on the flute. I don’t follow her career, but I have a lot more respect for her now than I might have before I heard her play that flute. She made a positive difference for a lot of people– especially young people. So the assholes who think she shouldn’t have played the flute should all go play in traffic. Preferably nowhere near where I live, thank you VERY much.
Now to get back to my travel blog… I’m about halfway done.
I decided to take yesterday off from writing, mainly because last week was pretty emotional. A week ago, we learned that our beloved Arran has lymphoma, and will likely be leaving us soon. The fact that Arran has cancer isn’t necessarily a shock, nor is it a shock that he will eventually leave us, especially since he’s between 13 and 14 years old. This is something that happens to every living thing at some point. But the timing of this is tough, since we’re going out of town on Wednesday and returning next Monday, and then Bill has to go on a couple of business trips. Arran saw the vet Friday, and they did more blood work. Some of his values actually improved since last month’s tests. But I can feel his lymph nodes getting larger, and he just wants to rest all the time. Except, of course, when it’s walk time. He does still enjoy his walks, and he will still eat, as long as we offer something tastier than plain kibble.
We also had rainy weather yesterday, which made going out kind of unappealing. Bill ended up making brownies and I downloaded some new software, which I was trying out yesterday. I also couldn’t think of anything to write about. Or, maybe there were things to write about, but I couldn’t be arsed to write about them yesterday. Instead, I just wanted to hang out with Bill and my dogs. Arran is such a unique character– complex on so many levels. He is selfish, cranky, and possessive, yet so loving, loyal, and sweet. So yes, it’s been hard to realize that our time with him is going to be ending in the near future.
We did go out on Saturday. Finally saw the optometrist, and updated our prescriptions, which we really needed to do. Wiesbaden had two fests going on, so we walked around those, and had some lunch. The featured photo is from the Fall Fest, which is always fun, especially since, for the past two years, we haven’t had it due to COVID-19.
I wish we could postpone our trip out of town, but to do so would mean losing a large bundle of cash and having to fight an insurance company to get reimbursed. Plus, we are engaging in some necessary business by visiting our dentist, and both Bill and I are in need of a change of scenery/break. I need one more than he does, since I don’t take business trips. Or… maybe I don’t need a break, in terms of life or death, but I really want one. This trip will be to a beautiful hotel with great food… I just hope we can enjoy it. We will be two hours from home, so if anything happens with the dogs while we’re out of town, it won’t be too hard to get back to them and take care of things.
As I was writing this, Arran came into the room. He used to get up when we did, but now he sleeps later. Generally, when the sun comes up, he saunters in and asks to go outside. He does his business and has his breakfast. Now he’s come back up here and parked himself behind my chair, where he’ll stay until he decides he wants a walk. It occurs to me this morning that nothing has really changed, other than knowing that his time is limited now. But actually, that would be true in all cases, since we never know when we’ll die. According to Embark, Arran canine age is the equivalent of a person in their mid 90s. But, for someone in their 90s, he still gets around pretty well, in spite of the lymphoma. He’s still gorgeous, too.
I think Noyzi can tell Arran is ailing. For one thing, dogs have a fantastic sense of smell, and we give off different scents when we’re sick. I’m sure that’s true for animals, too. And there’s a different energy, too. Arran isn’t as cranky when Noyzi is around, although he hasn’t completely stopped barking at him when he gets too annoying. Noyzi also did something very interesting the other night. We had a rare thunderstorm, and Noyzi was obviously scared. He came down to the dining room, where Bill and I were, and sought comfort. At first he came to me, because he prefers women to men. But then, he crawled under the table, which is usually Arran’s domain. Then he stuck his head on Bill’s lap, looking up at him hopefully, as if to ask him for reassurance. That was the first time he’s ever done that, and it’s a big sign that he trusts Bill. Given that he used to pee submissively when Bill would take off his belt, this is a HUGE deal.
Noyzi needs comforting.
The vet thinks Arran will be fine while we’re gone, if not a bit less energetic and hungry than usual. When we get back, he’ll have another appointment, and she’ll decide whether or not to give him prednisone. Having seen what prednisone did for both Zane and MacGregor, two of our dogs who have since gone to the Rainbow Bridge, I think it would be helpful for Arran. I don’t think we’ll do chemo for him… but that decision will be final when we learn what type of lymphoma he has. I hate this, though. I feel like we should be doing more, even though Arran doesn’t seem to be in any serious distress right now.
I also spent yesterday plowing through my latest book. I will probably be ready to review it tomorrow, as it’s not a long book, and I’ve managed to get a lot of it read in a couple of sittings. I’ve even been reading it aloud to Bill, since it’s about Donald Trump, and Trump intrigues and disgusts him as much as he does me. Maybe I’ll even review it today, since I don’t have any pressing chores to do. We’ll see…
I did have a chance to record a new song yesterday. It will eventually be used in a new video that will be posted at a later date. And here is a video I made today, but this one is not the one I did yesterday.
A deep cut Carpenters tune from 1971.
Sometimes, one just needs a day to do nothing that requires a lot of brain power. I can’t say that I didn’t do anything yesterday, since I did buy new software and try it out, and I did so some recording. But it was good to take a day off of blogging. I don’t think anyone minds… or even really noticed. This is especially true since I disabled the Facebook page. I obviously had people who were following the page without officially following it, looking for new posts. While it would be nice to have more readers, I’m pretty happy with having some high quality folks reading and commenting, and not looking for a reason to be negative. There’s a definite downside to popularity.
Anyway… I don’t have anything else to add to this post. Maybe I will later. Like I said, I don’t have pressing chores to do today.
We had kind of a scary day yesterday. Our dog, Arran, didn’t seem to be feeling very well. He had a tragic look on his face, seemed to have trouble jumping, and when I touched his back, he yelped in pain. Arran is ten or eleven years old. He’s always been very healthy, but he’s not getting any younger. We also had a rather active weekend. He got walks and went with us to our visit to a winery on Friday night, as well as a day trip to Kallstadt, which is where Donald Trump’s grandparents were from.
Bill was worried enough about Arran yesterday that he took him to Tierklinik Hofheim, which is a really high speed veterinary facility near us. Our former vet down near Stuttgart told me, back when I was struggling with our other dog, Zane, that Tierklinik Hofheim is one of the best veterinary hospitals in Germany. I used to worry about how I would get Zane there, if he needed their services. It’s a good three hour drive from where we used to live. Now, we only live about twenty minutes from Hofheim, and about a year ago, Bill took Zane there and got the devastating confirmation that he had canine lymphoma.
We had hoped for one last month with Zane, but he was gone a week after our regular vet told us she suspected the disease. August 31, 2019 was a sunny, hot day. We found Zane that morning, exhausted and curiously bloated. It turned out he was bleeding internally from a ruptured tumor in his spleen. By noon, we had said goodbye to him. It was very sad for Bill and me, but as dog deaths go, particularly from cancer, it wasn’t as horrible as it could have been. Zane had a good last week. He was able to eat, bask in the sunshine, and even take a couple of walks.
We have now lost three dogs to canine cancer. Zane’s death, while certainly not easy, was much kinder than the deaths of his three predecessors. Our first rescue died of a very rare mycobacterial infection that required special testing by the Virginia Department of Health. Our second had prostate cancer. Our third, wonderful MacGregor, died of a spinal tumor. All three of those dogs endured excruciating pain that was barely touched by pain medications before we helped them to the Rainbow Bridge. I did not get the sense that Zane suffered pain as much as he did exhaustion and discomfort.
It was a terrible shock to lose Zane so quickly after finding out how sick he was. Zane was always a very special dog to me. I’ve loved every dog we’ve had, but Zane and I had an incredible bond. He was like a ray of sunshine most days… always friendly, mostly laid back, often hilarious, and happy almost all the time. He loved to play games and had a comical side to him. He also loved to snuggle, especially in my lap, and he loved running and playing, even though he was kind of fragile and needed a lot of veterinary care over his almost eleven year lifespan.
This is all Zane.
I usually get a new dog about a month after losing one, but this time, it’s taken a lot longer for a lot of reasons. We tried to adopt a new dog a few months ago, but he escaped before he managed to come into our home. I knew he was doomed as I watched him run away. We live close to two Autobahns, and the new dog, who was from Sardinia and apparently not very socialized, didn’t know us. Sure enough, he was killed before twenty-four hours had passed.
Bill and I are now expecting to bring a new dog into our home in about a month. The new dog is from Kosovo and, for now, is known as Noizy. I’m not sure if we will change his name. I don’t always change my dogs’ names when I get them. It depends on how fitting they are to their personalities. I have heard that Noizy isn’t actually very loud, either. Anyway… I expect Noizy will also be special because all dogs are in some way. I have yet to regret adopting a dog. Even the one we tried to adopt in March ended up doing something positive.
First off, the lady who runs the Tierpension where we board our dogs when we take trips thought of Bill and me when a German family “dumped” an elderly cocker spaniel named Maxl. Maxl’s human “dad” had died, and his “mom” was unable to take care of him. Family members brought him to the Tierpension and asked the staff to help them rehome him. Maxl had some health issues that were neglected, plus he’s about twelve years old. A couple tried to take him, but Maxl was too “stinky” and, for whatever reason, they decided not to take him to a vet but, instead, brought him back to the Tierpension.
Since Bill and I had already committed to taking in Noizy and I know that Noizy will probably cause angst for Arran, we declined to take Maxl. However, I did share Maxl’s information in one of several Facebook groups I joined because of the dog that escaped. I had been wanting to spread the word and ended up staying in the groups. A group member in the Pets of Wiesbaden group decided she could take in Maxl, and within a couple of days, he was in his new home. If not for the dog who got away, I probably never would have joined that Facebook group because my experiences with Facebook groups in Stuttgart had kind of soured me on them– especially the ones affiliated with the U.S. military.
And secondly, there’s Noizy, who’s about two years old and was found wandering the streets of Kosovo when he was a small puppy. He’s missing most of his tail and part of an ear. His rescuer thinks maybe some kids mutilated him. I haven’t met Noizy in person yet, but I’ve seen many pictures and videos. I have a feeling we’re going to get along fine, although Arran may not be too happy to have to share us with a new friend.
As for Arran… he seems somewhat better today. We are going to take him to the vet. He’s due for a checkup anyway, and we’re going to update some vaccines that we stopped giving after he had a mast cell tumor. Zane also had mast cell cancer and that was probably what led to the lymphoma, but Zane’s mast cell cancer was much worse and more active than Arran’s was. Arran just had one lone tiny tumor that was low grade. That was five years ago, and he’s not had another since. Zane, on the other hand, had lots of lumps and some systemic involvement. He held on for three years until lymphoma took him– lymphoma often strikes dogs who have had mast cell tumors. It’s not recommended to give vaccines to dogs who have had mast cell cancer, although we have kept giving the rabies vaccine because it’s the law. Since both dogs had mast cell tumors, we stopped most vaccines for both of them. Arran hasn’t had another tumor, so he’s probably alright to get boosters now.
I still think about Zane every day. The house has seemed kind of empty with just one dog around, although it’s also been peaceful and Arran has kind of morphed into a better behaved dog. But Arran is mostly Bill’s dog. Bill is Arran’s favorite person, even though Arran does his best to pay attention to both of us. All you have to do is look at the many photos I’ve posted of Arran and his habit of worshipping Bill every day. I don’t need to be worshipped… neither does Bill… but it would be nice to have a dog of my own to snuggle while Arran basks in his love for his “daddy”.
Hopefully, Noizy will like me as much as Zane did.
Anyway… for those who are curious, here are a couple of videos I made to remember Zane. They show his progression from adorable “teenaged” pup, who was originally named Einstein and fresh from Atlanta Beagle Rescue, to venerable old man living in Germany and acting like a brilliant canine ambassador. We were very privileged to know him and have him in our lives from December 13, 2009 until August 31, 2019. Sometimes, it even feels like he’s still hanging around.
Today’s post is a bona-fide rant. And no, I’m not “mad”. I’m irritated and annoyed, as usual. This is just a vent.
This morning, I read a very depressing (to me) article about how to train children to wear face masks. The tips were in The New York Times, and they were accompanied by pictures of adults trying to coax little kids into tolerating masks at school. Even though I don’t have children, and thus, have no skin in the game, I read the article and looked at the pictures. Then, against my better judgment, I left a comment on the Facebook page for the New York Times. I wrote “How depressing.”
It is depressing to me that small children have to worry about coronavirus at a time when they should be free to explore their environments, interact with their peers, and learn lots of new things using all of their senses. It is depressing to me that many very young children are going to be taught to fear germs before they even know how to count or recite the alphabet. Some of them will still lose friends and loved ones to the virus even though they wear masks, wash their hands, and eschew playdates. To me, that’s sad, even if I understand why children are being forced to “mask up” and can’t freely go play with their pals on the swings.
But God forbid I should mention that out loud. I knew that when I posted, and sure enough, along comes a busybody to remind me of what’s “important”, because we all need a member of the thought police to slap us upside the head and remind us of how “wrong” our opinions are…
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. We have to remind ourselves of the doom and gloom that is happening daily right now, thanks to COVID-19. Thank GOD for masks. They will save us all. And thank God for the lady who set me straight. Thanks, I needed that. /sarcasm
If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s some all-knower who can’t simply let people make a statement without adding some obnoxious one-upping, thought policing, virtue-signaling comment of their own. And it’s not just the issue of masks that get this treatment, either.
For example, today happens to be the one year anniversary that we learned that our sweet, loving, amazing dog, Zane, had lymphoma. I remember how I felt one year ago, when Bill took Zane to our local vet because I had felt swellings where his lymph nodes were under his jaw. I hoped it was an infection, but knew deep down that it was cancer. And Bill brought Zane home to tell me the news. I knew that Zane would be dead very soon. I commented on Facebook that I was very upset and my life “sucked”.
Sure enough, I got lots of responses from people telling me that my life doesn’t suck. One person argued with me about my statement. Another person told me to “buck up”. Still another said I should “get a grip”. After a few comments such as those, I posted this:
This was my admittedly snippy response. That was a legitimately AWFUL weekend.
I seem to remember that the evening that we learned about Zane’s cancer, we also spent responding to a truly ridiculous letter from our former landlady’s lawyer. Precious time that we could have spent with Zane was spent with Bill writing in German that, “no”, we didn’t steal a refrigerator from the ex landlady and we can prove it. And “no”, Americans don’t routinely clog up toilets with toilet paper. Hers was the only toilet I’ve used in my 48 years of shitting that has ever routinely clogged up, and I have taken dumps in MANY countries. It is sad that we had to spend an evening on that bullshit instead of enjoying sweet Zane’s company. But God forbid I say that out loud, either.
One week after I posted the above status, Bill and I drove Zane to the vet for the last time. Sometime during the night, he started bleeding internally. I don’t know for certain, but I think he had tumors in his spleen that had ruptured. When we awoke on August 31st of last year, Zane looked like he had grown teats. They were full of blood. I do take comfort that his last week was relatively pleasant, as cancer deaths go. He spent the week enjoying the outside, agreeable temperatures, sunshine, eating what he wanted, and being with his people. But losing him hurt me a lot. I still think of him every day. This is the first time I’ve lost a dog and not replaced him soon afterwards. Some of you will remember that a few months ago, we did try to give a new dog a home as the COVID crisis was beginning. Our attempt to take in a dog ended in senseless tragedy. Guess I should “buck up”, though, because things aren’t so bad.
Dealing with COVID-19, a year after losing Zane, is depressing for different reasons. The world has changed so much in such a short span of time. I think people want and need to talk about it. Many aspects of the pandemic world are, indeed, very depressing. But if you dare mention it out loud, you run the risk of some asshole reminding you of what’s “really important” (in their minds). If you acknowledge that small children wearing face masks is abnormal, you have to brace yourself for an upbraiding by self-important twits who have to contradict you. You know what? Fuck those people. I have about had my fill of dealing with them.
I have a feeling the one person who “laughed” at my comment to the busybody did so because he’s also sick of dealing with this type of person who can’t just let people just express a thought without correcting them. Honestly, I think people like the woman who retorted to me are the reason we have people like Trump in charge. Most folks don’t want to be lectured to or told what is “right” by holier-than-thou people. And, as much as I now identify as more of a liberal type, I also understand that sometimes preachy liberal types are “insufferable” and tiresome. I can understand why that makes a loudmouthed cretin like Donald Trump seem refreshing to certain people.
I remember sometime last year, I wanted to issue a complaint to USAA about their two-factor authentication system. I would have done so privately, but was unable to find an email where I could send my feedback. So I posted my comment on their Facebook page. Sure enough, someone had to come along and contradict me. She couldn’t just let a fellow customer voice a valid complaint. She had to discount my comment by praising USAA, and reprimanding me for daring to make it in the first place, even though I’m a paying customer, too, and have a right to voice my concerns.
I know people don’t like complainers, but there has to be room for criticism in every situation. Nay-sayers provide information about what could be improved about something. Take the face masks, for instance. Lots of people are just fine with them. They happily strap them on before they do anything, from shopping to having sex. Some are even expressing delight in how they can make them fashionable and how the masks might help them avoid getting sick as they also hide their resting bitch faces. They actually enjoy smelling their own breath. They probably enjoy the smell of their own farts, too. And you know what? That’s fine and dandy for them.
But there are other people who have legitimate issues with wearing face masks. For instance, there are people who have trouble wearing them because they wear hearing aids and the ear loops on most masks knock the hearing aids out of their ears. Some people feel claustrophobic or super anxious when they wear them. Some people need to be able to read lips and can’t because of the masks. Some people make their living or just really enjoy playing woodwind instruments or singing. And some people literally lack ears! I’ve actually known a couple of people in that situation. One was a guy whose ears were deformed due to years of wrestling and being grabbed by his ears. Another was a man who’d lost part of his ears at war. Yes, there are masks available that tie in the back, but in the case of the war veteran, that was also problematic because he also had arthritis in his hands.
These people have needs that should be considered. They don’t need to be shut up by self-righteous dipshits who can’t simply let people have their say without a virtue-signaling, “one size fits all” rebuttal. People have a right to point out why masks are problematic for some folks and should strictly be a TEMPORARY measure. If no one complains, what incentive do we have to make things better for everyone— not just the cheerful, super responsible, self-righteous types who revere the masks?
It’s not normal, natural, or fun for most children to be forced to wear face masks. Really young children are just starting out in the world, learning how to socialize and communicate with other people. I do think it’s depressing that they have to be “trained” to wear a mask, which will hinder their ability to communicate, instead of being allowed to interact with others the way generations of people before them have been allowed to. I can make that statement without failing to realize why the masks are currently necessary and needing a fucking lecture from some stranger about how people are getting sick and dying of COVID-19. DUH. I’ve gotten the news. It’s on EVERY channel.
I can also make a statement about being really upset about my dog dying and my life temporarily sucking without some twit reminding me of how good I have it (especially since most of the people making those comments have NO IDEA what my life is actually like– they can only make assumptions).
People need to let people say their piece without contradicting them with their own virtue-signaling bullshit. Although to be fair, there’s a reason why I rarely bother posting comments on newspaper articles. It’s mainly because I hate dealing with people like the woman who corrected me this morning with her parental wisdom. Thanks, lady. You sure set me straight. I learned something new from you and am suitably chastened. Now run along, pick out your favorite mask for today, and let me go back to being my cranky self.
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