So, I have uncharacteristically fallen into obsession with Lady Gaga.  Well, I generally obsess about things, just not things like Lady Gaga.  Most often these things are a certain author, a painter, a poet, a technology or an unknown musician.  I focus like a laser, learn everything I can or care to and then move on.  Resistance is futile.  So why Gaga?  Pop music is the opiate of the masses.  Full of worldly longing, empty sexual exploits, boasting, fantasy and wrath.  Generally I disdain its vapidity.  There is one thing about music which can be said of any art.  It is interpreted by the creator and by the consumer.    These views can be radically different because of what each person brings with them when they experience the art.  All art forms can be critiqued through many avenues, and one of my very favorites is comparative cultural criticism.  Whether we understand it or not almost everything we encounter that is created for entertainment is filled with imagery, symbolism and homage.  In effect, nothing is really unique on its own, its the way an item is used.  Harry Potter is an excellent example of recycling old latin, mythology and folklore into something completely new. What does this all have to do with Gaga?  She knows exactly how to play her part, and what has worked for others in the past.  She draws heavily from greats like Bowie, Queen and even Mötley Crüe in her track "Boys, Boys', Boys".  The mashups, the hand clapping, the electronic back up is giant wad of subconscious previously chewed material that we lap up like hungry animals. She is either a savant or a trend genius.  Beyond that I enjoy the irony of her appealing to the wasteland of the shallow and gratification seeking pop scene when she has a Rainer Maria Rilke poem tattoo on her arm.  She takes the role she plays very seriously.  This is just business.  The business of art.   In the video for Bad Romance she is literally a monster, dressed up and sold as a sex symbol who ultimately destroys the man who buys her.  In the end, she's the one in control. Is anyone else seeing this?  She's taken the imagery, the sounds, and the public hunger for novelty and woven it into a huge success.  So, her lyrics are repetitive and sometimes empty, but I love how she plays us.  I love how talented she is, and how she dumbs is down for us and feeds us on sensationalism. 

Its getting harder to be optimistic about Malachi. 

I woke up today instantly happy and full of sunshine intensity positive thinking.  I looked over the edge of the bed at Malachi and told him today was going to be awesome.  I was going to do chores, a walk around the yard, some doggy massage, and then a couple of well deserved carrots.  He was less than enthused.  And that's what has me worried, or rather experiencing low level dread. 

Since his hip started shucking in and out of joint randomly a lot of the perkiness I was so excited about two weeks ago has gone.  He used to get up willingly, even though his hip hurt, and walk in a stately manor around the yard sniffing and doing doggy stuff.  Now I catch him sitting looking with dull misery at whatever is directly in front of him.  That's not all the time, but that's how I know his hip is luxated and I need to roll him on his side, and manipulate it back into place.  Sometimes it's so uncomfortable that he growls at me.  If you know Malachi you know that is outrageously out of character for him.  It breaks my heart to see him so and I find myself caught between two things.

1.  Dogs all over the world live healthy and active lives on three legs.  Malachi's injured leg only carries 10lbs of weight and as he continues to lose it will be less.  His right leg grows stronger every day and he often seems very happy to use it over the other.  He has long hours of contentment and wears a smile when he's laying in the grass enjoying the weather.  He could recover 90% function with time and never look back or have ill effects beyond arthritis later on.

2.  His hip luxates randomly, when he is walking, when he rolls over laying down, when he tries to get up.  He doesn't put any weight on it when he's standing most of the time.  I can tell it feels almost normal when I get it in joint, but lately it's been getting more difficult to manipulate it back into place.  This could be good or bad. Good in the sense that the muscles are tightening and may eventually hold it in place properly, or bad in the sense that it will permanently dislocate and cause him pain all the time.  He is on pain medication now and I am not sure if it has changed his temperament.  He's also become afraid to walk on the tile floors (which here is the whole house, and hard wood upstairs) and cries when I leave him stranded on an area rug and go to a different room. 

Its hard for me to know if this is a no-win situation.  Sometimes he is normal and happy and himself.  Sometimes he is obviously miserable, frustrated and in pain.  I don't know how long I'll let this go on before I have to make a decision.  How long is long enough to know that he isn't getting better?  Dad says that when his quality of life is gone that's when you have to choose.  He talked to me at length about the fact that many wild animals suffer trauma (dislocation) and heal a false joint and go on for many years.  He talked about skeletal anatomy and doggy weight dynamics and how as long as I keep working with him he can be okay.  Its just hard to see him like this.  Its hard to see him struggle.  I am ashamed to say that sometimes I let him outside and just leave him out there because I can't bear to look at him in this state.  He's fine when he's out there.  I can see he's not in pain, or unhappy.  I just have to get away from him and do other things sometimes because the anxiousness is killing me.  I just want him to be better, and its a hard reality that he will never be like he was.  Its hard to know if I am doing the right thing for him

Malachi is my shadow.  He's not the kind of dog who fetches the ball to please you, or wants to sit close to you.  He is the silent observer just a few feet away, always watching and listening.  He goes nuts when I swing my purse onto my shoulder, because since I have been home in NY I have taken him almost everywhere with me.  He loves riding in the car and visiting.  Today we went to Hall and he laid around while I made 75 caramel and candy apples.  Apples on sticks will haunt my dreams.  Then we went to stop by Mom's.  I had planned to ask about a hair cut this afternoon.  I had gotten the call not long before that I had been hired (at the video store) and that meant I could begin planning more in earnest about the future.  I walked up the steps, put the key in the door and as I was looking at Mom's mail I heard leaves rustling.  There is something in the leaves at the bottom of the front steps that Malachi seems to want to eat so I turned to scold him off of it and to my horror saw an expression of pure distress on his doggy face as he began to literally fall over.  I dropped my things and ran down the steps and began looking him over, asking him what was wrong.  His left leg was literally hanging benieth him.  I knew right away that he had done something to his hip.  He's not so great in the back end anyway, his legs look like turkey drumsticks when he's sitting.  I carried him inside and covered him with my coat and made call after call to find a vet who would see him.  Finally one close to my house set and appointment for me and I sat in their waiting room for almost an hour with him on my lap, holding him as my legs screamed at keeping my heels up so he would be on a nice level seat.  I cried shamelessly.  When the vet examined him my hopes were sinking as she noted a skin condition, fatty pockets, a pot belly, and the lack of muscle in his back legs.  He had a pretty clear case of a joint dislocation, but since it seemed to be spontaneous she didn't think just resetting the joint would be effective.  Even surgery was questionable because of the way he'd been using the two back limbs as one.  When the x-rays were done, when she went over all her options I gave my decision.  To keep him there over night on pain medication, run all the blood work and test for hypothyroidism, and then tomorrow they will reset his joint and he will probably come home.  If the joint doesn't stay in, or he is unable to walk after a week then its on to more difficult decisions about surgery or the other darker option that fills me with a horrible and sucking dread.  When I left him there this evening I felt like I was leaving him forever and it broke my heart.  But I will see him tomorrow. 

My eyes are scratchy and my head feels like it's full of sand.  I just want him to be well and happy and I fear the future.  He's my best buddy, the constant friendly adorable face in my life.  I feel so lost.  I have done everything that I can do right now.  I will do everything that I can tomorrow and that theme will repeat every day until things are better.  Or not.