The Downside of Giving a Damn -- No Pets Allowed

Sometimes I really hate myself for giving a damn.

One of the more difficult aspects of attempting the Third World American USA Tour from a position of abject poverty is that I must do it all alone. Of course that means no dating in any meaningful sense, which is bad enough for a 30-something bachelor who appreciates the joy of romance far more than your average married & cheatin' redneck. I haven't seen one member of my family since 1993 either, and it pains me to know that my nieces and nephews grew from toddlers to adulthood without knowing me, just because I gave a damn.

Perhaps worst of all, even the companionship of pet is out of the question when I face situations like I'm in now, with literally zero dollars to my name, struggling just to get back on my feet, with my dream of the Third World American USA Tour itself on indefinite hold.

Pets have always meant a lot to me, especially dogs and cats. A pet greets you when you get home with degree of genuine happiness to see you that no human could ever match. As you get to know each other, your pet learns to sense when your spirits are down, and always does its best to cheer you up with a lick to your face, or a gentle purr. And of course, when your spirits are high, they are always ready to play. Just play--not gossip, not politicize, not philosophize, not argue. Just play. Sometimes we all need to throw our cares to the wind for a while and just play. Pets never fail to remind you of this essential tool for the art of living.

Pets lay around sleeping all day, while you are out earning the money to pay for the residence where they get to spend all that time relaxing. Naturally, this inspires some envy among pet owners, yet it also makes us feel valuable that we are able to provide another living, breathing creature with the ability to enjoy a life of leisure, since working Americans like themselves will certainly never know what that is like. So we live vicariously through our pets, wishing it was us who gets to stay home all day, every day, just doing whatever makes our lives enjoyable and meaningful, rather than wasting the only life we will ever live manufacturing, selling, or marketing pointless products and services, and making our employers rich enough to enjoy the same kind of charmed life of leisure and privilege that a domestic dog or cat enjoys.

Pets teach us about life by showing us the way that humans should--and could--be: loving, forgiving, playful, horny, and always seeking meaningful leisure rather than pointless labor. Pets don't know or care anything at all about the things that consume human beings' thoughts and actions from cradle to grave: money, religion, politics, fear of death....

Yes, pets are fearless. Sometimes that gets them killed, although that is usually because they came across something that is completely unnatural--something man-made, like a car, or rat poison. Left alone, without the influence of human conveniences, they do pretty well for themselves, overall.

Pets are amoral--they are neither good nor evil. Better yet, we don't feel any need to constantly evaluate them as good, evil, or some degree of in-between. We just don't care when it comes to pets. But we sure do when it comes to our fellow humans.

If the Third World American USA Tour actually had some kind of funding, I would definitely consider taking a pet with me around the country. John Steinbeck took his faithful poodle, Charlie, with him when he traveled around the nation in his GMC truck back in 1963. It would be really nice to have some good company on an otherwise lonely 10-15,000 mile journey, and it probably couldn't hurt to have a little protection with four fast legs, a loud mouth, and a wagging tail.

So it really broke my heart today when I received a MySpace bulletin that featured several dogs at a Los Angeles animal shelter who have been "Red Listed", or scheduled to be euthanized if they are not adopted soon. One little wet nose in particular really caught my attention--a 13 year old coonhound mix named Sandy.



No one adopts 13 year old dogs. But I would adopt her in a heartbeat--if I could. Unfortunately I live in poverty. I'm a third world American. I can't afford to give Sandy the care she needs and deserves. Unless of course I give up on the Third World American USA Tour and "just get a job", like the inhumane non-thinkers who created this pointless existence for human beings are so quick to suggest that I do. Or unless I suddenly get funding for the tour, before she is euthanized.

If you live in or near Los Angeles, I hope you will consider adopting Sandy, and give her a good home where she may live out her remaining years the way "superior" humans refuse to live: seeking meaningful leisure rather than pointless labor.

At the very least, if you visit the North Central Los Angeles Shelter, give Sandy a big hug for me, and tell her I'm genuinely sorry that I give a damn about my fellow humans. Otherwise, I would "just get a job" of pointless labor, begin contributing productively to America's decline rather than attempting to stop it, and adopt her.

Tell her I'm sorry I live in a third world nation.

Visit the Los Angeles North Central Animal Shelter website. Sandy is dog #A830972.

All the best,
Paul