Ten Years Shorter

Life expectancy in this country is poor. Especially compared to other "civilized" countries.

Women live six years longer than men. As I turn 70 on January 1, fear should fill my soul. Male life expectancy is furiously short. Practically teenage. But in keeping with my current good fortune, I choose to keep exercising and believing in longevity.

I believe life expectancy would be ten years shorter if not for pets.

Had bloodwork done yesterday in advance of the yearly physical coming up on Monday. The woman who drew my blood had a picture on the wall of her hugging her dog - her arm wrapped around his neck, big smile on her face, love in her and her dog's eyes.

Everybody has pictures of their pets. Every stifling cubicle in America is decorated with pet pictures. Pretentious executive offices have framed photos of cats and dogs on the desk. The plumber has a picture of his dog taped to the dashboard of his truck. He also keeps a tattered picture of his wife tucked into his worn out wallet, right next to the 8 year old condom he carries "just in case."

Pets release pure love from pet "owners" hearts. A simultaneously sublime and dangerous proposition indeed. Our hearts are not built to withstand pure love. We shield our hearts in lead to defend against vulnerability. Pets circumvent our defenses easily. Ain't nothin' to it.

And that's what it's all about. Pet love is powerful medicine, more powerful than morphine, more powerful than penicillin.

Your pet's eyes meet your eyes and you melt - you forget everything. There is a jolt of pure love transmitted between you that is akin to a nuclear detonation. You forget about your bills, your job, your aches and pains and broken dreams and you just are - you are fully human in the state of mind that should be natural but isn't, because you have responsibilities.

But your pets have no responsibilities. Except one. To keep reminding you of how beautiful life can be.

They are pretty fucking good at it.