Helpfully unhelpful.
I don’t know what the opposite of an emotional support dog is, but whatever it may be, our dog, Arthur, is that. Ever since I broke my wrist, he has done his very best to be unhelpfully helpful. As adorable as he is, he’s perhaps not the smartest wee terrier/chihuahua/virtually-all-other-breeds-of-dog mix, his wee canine brain having concluded that the more he demands affection or presents himself as the most effective trip hazard, the quicker I will decide to heal.
As a result, answering the door, or a phone call can take on an extra level of thrill, as my podgy wee friend will suddenly find a way to stand as a protective barrier between me and whatever next needs my attention, and so when I answer the door or the phone or whatever, it’s often with a tone of ‘Oh FFS.’
I’ve thought lately about how stories can be a bit like that. When a story is persistently rattling around in your head, it’s a bit like having a wee dog scurrying around your feet. It makes it twice as tricky to communicate anything. Everything feels and sounds distracted. And considering how many stories we all have in life, it’s frankly amazing we get anything done.
I wonder if that’s why Fish and Bear nights feel so chill. Maybe because when you’re sitting listening to other people’s tales, your own specific ones calm the hell down. Or because it allows you to look at life’s bigger picture rather than the vision that’s skulking around your ankles, or maybe it’s because I haven’t taken Arthur to a Fish and Bear yet.
Anyway, last week in the chilled, Arthur-free event, I learned that mustard is just Western Wasabi, cycling can make hot dogs taste better, a simple lamp can be a ‘Marriage Saver,’ and trash day can be one of the most stimulating days of the week.
Lynn
Xo
Fish and Bear is held every Thursday at 7pm.
Book your place here: https://fishandbear.net/booking
