Sunday, July 18, 2010

Boyfriends Come and Go But There's No Substitute For A Good Dog

A few years ago, someone I dated for a short time made a blog post/website/net thingie called "Never Date O'Neill's Mom" (and then my Best Gay Boyfriend explained to him that Southern Women really aren't the meanest creatures in Tennessee and he would be happy to show him what IS the meanest thing drawing breath in Nashville, but that's another story for another day.)

O'Neill, for those of you who may be new to me and this blog, was a Bearded Collie/OE Sheepdog mix who shared my life for 12 years.  Here he is:

He was my id and my best friend.  He was at my side through various professional and personal disasters.  What happened was that among other things, I found out that the ex knew O'Neill had been picked as the pet of the month by the local hockey team and unfortunately this was posted on their website on April 29th of 2009, the same day that he died. I don't know if it was the fact that the season had ended or if someone had dropped the dime that they were featuring a dead dog on their website, but it was taken down soon after.  I am also not entirely sure if he originally never told me because I was busy dealing with the details of losing my dog.  I do know that his two favorite topics of conversation were 1.) I liked O'Neill better than him and 2.)  Hockey is a brutal, stupid sport played by people who are lacking frontal lobes and enjoyed by people operating with brain stems.  He was right.  I did like O'Neill better than him.  I am glad that I always prioritized Dawg Boy ahead of that clown. 

Not every woman shares my priorities.  Take New York actress, Ashley Yeater.  She left her ten-pound Yorkie, Emmit, with her ex-marine boyfriend, Joseph Graves, while she toured Florida with a road company of "A Chorus Line".  While the dog was in his care, he kicked and hit the dog with a belt with sufficient force that he broke Emmit's ribs and caused enough internal damage that one of the Yorkie's eyes had to be removed. That is pretty bad, but it gets worse. Graves let this small dog suffer for two days before he finally took him to the vet.

Most of us would be pretty disturbed to think that someone we love would brutalize a smaller creature whose ability to defend themselves would be minimal at best. Most of us would see this as a big red flag and maybe, at the very least, take some time to think this through.  Okay, to be honest here, if I had been in Yeater's shoes, we would both be doing time because I would have grabbed a hockey stick (not my David Legwand Vapor, one of my practice sticks) and belabored him to the point that he looked worse than poor Emmit.

Lucky for Graves, but not poor Emmit, Ashley Yeater is nothing like me.  In fact, she chose to stand by her man and sent Emmit to live with her parents in Virginia. If Yeater is willing to throw over common sense and stay with this person, knowing what he is capable of, maybe Emmit is better off somewhere else. Maybe Ashley deserves this guy.  Now that I think about it, yes, she does. Ashley and Joseph, ya'll are a match made in Hell.  Now please slither back there.

Ashley?  Not only am I an animal lover and a sports fan, I'm a playwright. If you ever see anything with my name attached to it, do us both a favor and give it a pass.  It would really annoy me to have to tell you to leave the theatre, but I will do just that if I see your resume and head shot ever cross a table at an audition for anything I write.

Oh, and for what it's worth, hockey and dogs are still a part of my life. The ex, however, is history.  I hope Ms Yeater figures out before it's too late that boyfriends come and go, but there's no replacement for the great devotion of a good dog and the knowledge that your city's team has a captain who can burn a hole in the opposing side's net.


EdgyJuneCleaver said...

Dude, the only boyfriend worthy of loving more than your dog would be Jesus in a George Clooney suit. Just sayin'

Rock on!

Jane said...

Boyfriends only WISH they could be as awesome as O'Neill.