Alpha.
I used to feel bad for Danger Cat, because Otis, the dog I shared with my ex, basically wanted to eat him. It was tough trying to keep them separated all the time. As a puppy, Otis had once been beaten up by a different cat, so he had a certain respect initially (read: fear) of Buddy Holly.
But then something changed.
I don’t know what happened. Otis got ahold of this website or something, because two years down the road, he was lunging and barking at our cat like he, Otis, was A-number one alpha king. And Buddy Holly stopped standing his ground, and just ran like hell under the nearest piece of furniture. This led me to think of how there are no absolutes in the pet world: Whereas once I felt sorry for Otis, my sympathy now lay with Buddy Holly, who, like those old Warner Brothers cartoons, seemed to lose one life every time the dog rushed him.
Last night, I was watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force with a friend, and I let out an “Aww,” when this constantly trod-upon character, Meatwad, got tortured yet again, by another character, Shake. “Don’t feel sorry for Meatwad!” said my friend. “He would be just as mean if he were smarter!”
All of this keeps resonating with things I’ve been observing lately as I’ve stuck my big toe tentatively back into that crazy crazy world of, yes, dating. It just makes me wonder about the whole confidence-thing. I’m convinced that feeling confident is the only thing that matters as far as how satisfied you end up in life, in the end.
What I’m wondering about lately, though, is how the hell confidence is doled out in the scheme of things, and by what cackling demon. How come I’ve (semi- pseudo-) dated some people who just dazzle me at the outset with their amazing self-confidence, only later to realize that it’s all bullshit bravado and there ain’t no there, there? How come the people with zero substance seem to be the most proud of themselves? And then of course, how many people have I known who are just fabulously witty and kind and smart and physically attractive, but just convinced they’re losers? The self-fulfilling prophecy-ness of it. You become who you think you are. Not to say that you can’t change it, but really--only you can change it. I don’t know how. Go ask my dog.
I used to feel bad for Danger Cat, because Otis, the dog I shared with my ex, basically wanted to eat him. It was tough trying to keep them separated all the time. As a puppy, Otis had once been beaten up by a different cat, so he had a certain respect initially (read: fear) of Buddy Holly.
But then something changed.
I don’t know what happened. Otis got ahold of this website or something, because two years down the road, he was lunging and barking at our cat like he, Otis, was A-number one alpha king. And Buddy Holly stopped standing his ground, and just ran like hell under the nearest piece of furniture. This led me to think of how there are no absolutes in the pet world: Whereas once I felt sorry for Otis, my sympathy now lay with Buddy Holly, who, like those old Warner Brothers cartoons, seemed to lose one life every time the dog rushed him.
Last night, I was watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force with a friend, and I let out an “Aww,” when this constantly trod-upon character, Meatwad, got tortured yet again, by another character, Shake. “Don’t feel sorry for Meatwad!” said my friend. “He would be just as mean if he were smarter!”
All of this keeps resonating with things I’ve been observing lately as I’ve stuck my big toe tentatively back into that crazy crazy world of, yes, dating. It just makes me wonder about the whole confidence-thing. I’m convinced that feeling confident is the only thing that matters as far as how satisfied you end up in life, in the end.
What I’m wondering about lately, though, is how the hell confidence is doled out in the scheme of things, and by what cackling demon. How come I’ve (semi- pseudo-) dated some people who just dazzle me at the outset with their amazing self-confidence, only later to realize that it’s all bullshit bravado and there ain’t no there, there? How come the people with zero substance seem to be the most proud of themselves? And then of course, how many people have I known who are just fabulously witty and kind and smart and physically attractive, but just convinced they’re losers? The self-fulfilling prophecy-ness of it. You become who you think you are. Not to say that you can’t change it, but really--only you can change it. I don’t know how. Go ask my dog.
Labels: home life
posted by Alice at 2:21 PM
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